“Yeah, I’ve heard that story. ” He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room. Selfishness. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. In a few minutes after the delivery of this note he will be in Newgate. “I murdered them, John.
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