Sheila McCloskey was the real neighborhood watch. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively.
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