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Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat.
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