She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. The windows of these rooms were obscured with draperies, their floors a carpet patchwork; the china ornaments on their mantels were of a class apart. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him. "I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. As he gazed at these lights, they suddenly seemed to disappear, and a tremendous shock was felt throughout the frame of the boat.
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