A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. Independently of other risks, and of the chance of breaking his neck in the descent, he was aware that to reach the leads he should have to break open six of the strongest doors of the prison. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other.
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