His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys. Three more people came to meet them at the door. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner.
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