‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion.
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