By this time, the door was unlocked, and drawing his sword, Quilt entered the cell. 13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up to her room. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. Michelle’s eyes widened. “Do you happen to know whether she is supposed to be here?” “Very likely indeed,” Captain Fred Meddoes answered, lighting a cigarette.
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