As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. “I don’t believe there is one. A sob was strangled in her throat. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled. It was too good to be true. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud.
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