The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face. There was—a service. I will return to Manchester at once. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me.
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