"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. What is a Yale man?" "Did he say he was a Yale man?" "He and Ah Cum were talking…. “I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath.
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