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The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought. Hastening in the direction of the sound, he discovered Thames Darrell, stretched upon the ground. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. You shall not take me alive. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy. She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it.
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