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. " "Her ladyship will pass through it?" "Of course; there's no other way. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. “What was that?” she asked sharply. ‘Étes-vous Francais?’ Her eyes, he noted, followed from himself to Hilary and back again, but she did not speak. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. Observe it—a blue-serge coat.
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