“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. “It’s his birthday. ” He did not move. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. I give you the plain, unadulterated truth. “Lucy Albert. 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. "It is useless to deny it," replied Jack.
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