Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. She seemed to be endowed with superhuman strength. 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.
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