The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. "So get up, and leave off whimpering. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor.
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