"To Newgate," cried Jonathan, putting his head out of the window. He had known she would be shocked, but he was equally certain Melusine would have refused to see her grandfather had she been forewarned. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank.
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