A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. I’d to go to Remenham House as well, and show Pottiswick your letter of authorisation. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester.
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