The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. " "Sir Rowland is dead," replied Jonathan, gloomily. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. Old Bedlam. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket.
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