The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. ” She shook her head. ” “When?” “At tea. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him. . "Stay!" interposed Jonathan. “I remember hearing something about it. ” “I’m sorry.
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