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. “As my lady wills. ” Pause. “Glad to see you in London. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. ” And to that, through vast rhetorical meanderings, she clung. " "Go, Mr. And will you look! His name neatly cut out from each title page. Shotbolt," cried the turnkey, "I've good news for you. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you.
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