"Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. “I don’t care a rap for remembering. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. "Not proud in the least, I declare. " To bring down this imperfect sketch of Newgate to the present time, it may be mentioned, that, being found inadequate to the purpose required, the old jail was pulled down in 1770. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. Fortescue, with a bow. She infused menace into her voice.
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