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. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. Spurling has induced him to sit down again. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. " A deep indignant groan followed. ToC Ascending a short flight of steps, Jack found at the summit a door, which being bolted in the inside he speedily opened. ” He sat for a moment, absorbing. Only a son’s another story.
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