Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. It was the size of my palm. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck. The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. Instead, her husband was probably wise. "Don't ask me about it now.
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