"Heard of your escapes. That is what my mother used to call me. Let us pass, Sir. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. "To Newgate," cried Jonathan, putting his head out of the window. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed.
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