ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. Always! I don’t believe there is any strong natural affection at all between parents and growing-up children.
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