me at Soho, came hither; another part of her business being to procure
the divine lady's pardon for the old creature's wickedness to her.

This devil incarnate, Sally, declares that she never was so shocked in
her life, as when I told her the lady was dead.

She took out her salts to keep from fainting; and when a little recovered
she accused herself for her part of the injuries the lady had sustained;
as she said Polly Horton would do for her's; and shedding tears,
declared, that the world never produced such another woman. She called
her the ornament and glory of her sex; acknowledged, that her ruin was
owing more to their instigations, than even (savage as thou art) to thy
own vileness; since thou wert inclined to have done her justice more than
once, had they not kept up thy profligate spirit to its height.

This wretch would fain have been admitted to a sight of the corpse; but I
refused the request with execrations.

She could forgive herself, she said, for every thing but her insults upon
the admirable lady at Rowland's, since all the rest was but in pursuit of
a livelihood, to which she had been reduced, as she boasted, from better
expectations, and which hundred follow as well as she. I did not ask
her, by whom reduced?

At going away, she told me, that the old monster's bruises are of more
dangerous consequence than the fracture; that a mortification is
apprehended, and that the vile wretch has so much compunction of heart,
on recollecting her treatment of Miss Harlowe, and is so much set upon
procuring her forgiveness, that she is sure the news she is to carry her
will hasten her end.