"I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet.
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