The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. .
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