’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. “What is going on between you two?” Lucy asked. 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.
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