” She said. "You've hit it," answered Sheppard. When she tried to speak she found it difficult. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing. 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.
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