At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. "I've spoken. Brendon,” she said, “if I could ask for advice, or borrow money from any one, I would from you—there! But I cannot. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. ‘Speak, then. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. . "That's a good story, lad.
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