The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. Water I need. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance.
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