In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. He drifted in and out of consciousness. There were three exit doors. The floor was planked with oak, and covered with iron staples, hooks, and ringbolts, with heavy chains attached to them. Aren’t I asking—asking plainly now?.
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