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I think too much about myself. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. She gloried in it: he needed her. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys.

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