The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. "Where?" "That can wait," she answered. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high.
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