She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. I'm always agreeable to the women, bless their kind hearts! Now! slip the purse into my hand. —Strype's Stow. No prisoner except Edgeworth Bess was placed in the same cell with him. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. Wood.
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