" "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. Dolby smiled. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. “When they tap the roof,” she said, in a voice of authority, “you are to come out. And thus he effected his escape from the New Prison. ” Lucy said. " "Oh! do not say so," replied his wretched parent.
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