Brown or Jones, I dare say. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. The militia offered little in the way of relief. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. We shall take an eternal farewell of each other.
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