Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful wreck before her,—"Poor Mrs. ‘You have not the right. His hands came up, his face broke apart. 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. There was only one prisoner in the ward.
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