‘You do not dare look in my clothes. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. 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. " "Horror!" cried Jack.
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