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He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street. The Hospital St. “I remember when you walked me home. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. I stole away and walked to the railway station. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel.
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