‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is.
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