It won't do to knock at the door, and Jonathan Wild's house is not quite so easy of entrance as Mr. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her.
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