A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distributing the Marquis's donation, affected to throw the remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the steps, unlocked the door. The whole force of the constables, jailers and others was required to keep the crowd out of the Hall. A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. I have suffered him to be brought up decently—honestly; because I would make his fall the greater, and deepen the wound I meant to inflict upon his mother. And you have stolen my dagger. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. “Why?” he asked, suavely.
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