The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. Melusine glanced towards the elderly dame and found that sharp gaze directed upon her. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. “As my lady wills. Nothing material occurred to Newgate, until the memorable year 1666, when it was utterly destroyed by the Great Fire.
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