The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. For a moment she remained silent. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. And at the sight something leaped within her. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. "Come and sit down by me. She recoiled. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey.
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