She thought me— filthy. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. She recalled him. “What happened to your parents, Lucy? Is it all right if I ask?” Lucy looked at her with a soft gaze. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most.
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