Behind Mrs. “Let your friends act for you. Mrs. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. Don't lay it all to the boy. Hope reared. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. To have sprung this upon them to-night would have been worth a thousand pounds. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. "From that door," continued the thief-taker, pointing to the gloomy portal of the prison opposite which they were standing, "the condemned are taken to Tyburn. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts.
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