"A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street.
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