Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled. "I need not ask whether this is Mr. Period trying desperately to cover her nudity with a dingy hand towel she had found lying on the floor in a corner.
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