Her tone was icy. He moaned. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair.
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