"Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. That was what she was trying to make him understand. "Jonathan does what he pleases in the courts. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate.
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