The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. Perhaps because I don’t know. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls.
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