His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. 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. . Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. This is a good piano. I haven't forgotten her previous history. “I fail to see the joke,” Sir John said. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none.
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