As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. And then her pace slackened. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. 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.
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