Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. 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. They had both been unsuccessful.
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