" The clock tinkled ten. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. You wouldn't rob Mr. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pew where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds, which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions.
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