“Let me get you some water, Annabel. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops.
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