” It was rare that Ann Veronica used hansoms, and to be in one was itself eventful and exhilarating. She opened the door with a neon colored key. The girl nodded sagely. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Built and paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay the customary fees. “It was best for me to know.
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