Here the prisoners took exercise; and a quaint, but striking picture has been left of their appearance when so engaged, by the author of the English Rogue. "I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. "Not a moment is to be lost," cried Jack: "follow me. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together.
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