"But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. "He will live," answered Ruth. There isn’t. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. "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.
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