“There’s twenty before you, and Mr. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished.
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