PRIVATE FIRST CLASS “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. "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. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. They are rather a long way off, but you could write to them. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still.
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