" "To make him forget the knock?" "Precisely. It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine.
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