The major’s hand stilled. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled. He returned, blue towel in hand. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention. I’m a female thing at bottom.
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