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. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. If you hang Jack Sheppard, you'll cut off the flower o' the purfession. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps.
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