Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. ” She agreed. I don't know anything about you. ’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. 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.
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