Before her was a great Gothic portal. I will not trust you. She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. However, it don't signify. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her.
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