Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. ” “Why?” “If I were bad at it, you would be on your way to the hospital by now. I’ve never muffed an exam yet. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself.
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