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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. As a matter of fact it isn’t their affair. But it doesn’t alter the situation. “Think of the mockery!” she said.
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