The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. "What is he gone there for?" "With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner," replied Wild, with a cunning smile. “Boys!” said Capes. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there.
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