" So saying, he descended a short spiral staircase, and, entering a long stone gallery, from which several other passages branched, took one of them, and after various turnings—for he was familiar with all the intricacies of the prison— arrived at the cell of which he was in search. God, we suck. He hated the taste of it. “Dear me!” he said. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket.
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