Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. 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. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. ‘There is little I can do at present. Suddenly all this makes you human.
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