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” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. \"So did I. Neither Charvill nor his heir know anything of your presence in England. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. This, Wood, acting upon Terry's caution, was most unwilling to do; but, finding he had no alternative, he reluctantly made known his errand and the bolts were undrawn. It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge.
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