All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. Though by no means so extensive or commodious as the modern prison, Old Newgate was a large and strongly-built pile. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “I haven’t seen the new Patience, dear,” she said.
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