“Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels. He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face.
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