She had expected a love story; and love was totally absent. Sepulchre's church struck one, on the eventful night of the 10th of June, (to which it will not be necessary to recur,) a horseman, mounted on a powerful charger, and followed at a respectful distance by an attendant, galloped into the open space fronting Newgate, and directed his course towards a house in the Old Bailey. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. “I’ll be here at one in the morning.
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