\"Yes, I'd love to go. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. "What is a sing-song girl?" she asked.
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