‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. He stabbed into her with brute force. ” “I promise,” he answered heartily. “If you speak—farewell. "You've perjured yourself. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. 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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