One called Waterman's Hall, a horrible place adjoining the postern under the gate, whence, through a small barred aperture, they solicited alms from the passengers: the other, a large chamber, denominated My Lady's Hold, was situated in the highest part of the jail, at the northern extremity. Then he threw the letter at me. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
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