“I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. 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. She had become neutral towards him and he had used the lesson to try to advance himself.
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