I had no curiosity of that kind. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. The guards, horse and foot, and constables formed a wide circle round it to keep off the mob.
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