ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. “You must not think of me as one. " "Are you a real nurse?" "Yes. She felt flattered. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. Anyhow, that is how things are.
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