He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. \" His brown eyes were tired and full of concern. “Why aren’t you in Orchestra, Lucy?” “I just. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. .
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