“Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. "I'm your dupe no longer.
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