The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. But God did not put you next door. She went into shock. I couldn’t help the thought. ‘You will not believe any of my very clever lies.
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