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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. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the
gun cocked. Presently
repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. And a right set-to there were betwixt him and
Mr Jarvis, I can tell you. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his
plate.
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This video was uploaded to incense-india.com on 04-07-2024 13:50:57