Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. Brendon went for the doctor,” Anna answered. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. 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.
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