"Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. . 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. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. ” He looked at Lucy.
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