‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. ‘That way. They’re fairly intricate little things. You are you.
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