He went to the door. 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. Had he found the secret door? Running to the centre, she tried to judge where the knocking came from. "I will struggle no longer with destiny.
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