It was the one that she had sworn she’d throw out, if only Julian had not liked it so much. 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. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief.
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