F. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. You will stop at once.
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