ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. “Of course you don’t. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. He screamed in pain, doubling over with a howl as she stumbled out of the bed. If she spoke to a policeman she did not know what would ensue. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both.
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