82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. ’ ‘Ha! You’re Catholic, too, damn his eyes,’ growled the general. Insulting cries became frequent and various, but for the most part she could not understand what was said. Yes, this was a little better. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. One who—who—tres. “Never mind me. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. I think that I am very fortunate to have it to sign.
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