"I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. . I can't run in these heavy fetters. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. But, as this produced no effect, and did not even elicit a groan, the prisoner was carried back to Newgate. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not.
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