Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. ’ ‘How could he when he didn’t even handle it himself? Went off, I told you, and left it all to me. She described it so vividly. 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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