What was the old tabby at? Unaccountably embarrassed, he cleared his throat. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. I really am enjoying it. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below.
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