"Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. Here and there, a building might be seen with the doors and windows driven in, and all access to it prevented by the heaps of bricks and tilesherds. Anna went out. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone.
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