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ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. ” “But you,” she exclaimed, “you are not coming.
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