There's a letter for the head turnkey, Mr. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and between ourselves I am not sure about it myself. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery.
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