At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. “We were afraid that you had deserted us for good, Mr. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled.
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