"I thought you were asleep. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. 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. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. “Of course, I remember now. "Square accounts with the rascal who got up the sham arrest; and, if he don't tip the cole without more ado, give him a taste of the pump, that's all. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot.
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