The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. I'm safe enough if you hold your tongue. “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so.
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