’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. . . They must have a key. But he might have broken out of prison, and yet not got over the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless.
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