‘Come on. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. ” His eyes were closed. Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels.
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