“I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. A sinister thought edged in. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. The second, comprising the bulk of the jail, and by many degrees worse in point of accommodation, having several dismal and noisome wards under ground, was common both to debtors and malefactors,—an association little favourable to the morals or comforts of the former, who, if they were brought there with any notions of honesty, seldom left with untainted principles. And Rollo, who had been waiting for some encouraging sound, presented himself at the doorway.
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