. " CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “Well, no,” she answered. She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. Shotbolt, the head turnkey of Clerkenwell Prison, and Mr. It was true.
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