Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. She was gone. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. “I want a plain word with you about all this. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully.
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