” The man’s face was dark with passion. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. 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. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug.
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