On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. ’ ‘But you must,’ Gerald said, quite as if he meant it. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. 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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