You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. ’ ‘Gérard,’ she said, giving the French version with a soft “g” and not quite managing the “l”. CHAPTER X. I’m not ashamed—of the things I’m doing. There is a musical programme, and we have the windows open and blinds up, and a pink lamp shade over the piano lamp—a sort of advertisement of the place, you know. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. ” “I was late.
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