I shouldn't talk like that. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. Now you will learn the result. I found the door locked as usual, but when we entered this room everything was as you see. Built and paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay the customary fees. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. “Mr.
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