Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. "Your son," answered the boy. Old Newgate. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. Why is the door fastened? Open it directly!" "Are you alone?" asked Jack, mimicking the voice of Kneebone.
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