White assented. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. Fast. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks.
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