"From that door," continued the thief-taker, pointing to the gloomy portal of the prison opposite which they were standing, "the condemned are taken to Tyburn. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. Sheppard. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. That was the true marvel of it. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. ‘They eloped. "Ay, to business," returned Jonathan, grinning, "the sooner the better. Sheppard, shuddering violently.
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