“How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. A silence ensued. " "Take care you don't fall into it yourself," returned Jackson, with a slight sneer. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels. Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her. Stanley. Wood.
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