“I confess it. "I've counted ten coffins so far. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate.
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