After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. There was only one prisoner in the ward. A sacrifice.
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