She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. As soon as he could be moved with safety, Jonathan had himself transported to Newgate, where he was carried into the Middle Ward, that he might feast his eyes upon his victim. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. So get up, and let's be off. That is what my mother used to call me.
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