She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. He became a little more personal and intimate.
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