Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. It is so ridiculous. He drew her closer. “It’s—private. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. “You do not know what such a relation means. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered.
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