What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. "He has just broken out of Newgate. “I’m not the Devil. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. Aware of the cunning and desperate characters of the persons with whom she would have to deal,—aware, also, that she was in a quarter where no laws could be appealed to, nor assistance obtained, she felt the absolute necessity of caution. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey.
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