The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Lucy entered the house by picking the back door lock with the slim jim. She found herself talking to Capes in an undertone of rational admission. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. "I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily.
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