This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. Manning, “when I see beautiful things, or else I want to weep. The whole was then fired, and in a few minutes the room was a blaze. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. Her faith in human beings revived. Mike chimed in. 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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