But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. ” “Yes, it is. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. ‘That’s why I’m asking. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. 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. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. ’ ‘Yes, and leave you to break in on your own.
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