Dollis Hill revisited. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. You cannot tell whether you know him or not until you have seen him. Built and paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay the customary fees. A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her.
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