He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. But ship that girl east as soon as you can. "What do you want with me?" "A word in private," replied the other. Entering the Red Room, he crept through the hole in the wall, descended the chimney, and arrived once more in his old place of captivity.
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