Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her.
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