The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. ’ She struck her hands together. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels. ” She laughed.
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