The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. . ” Just then the man’s eyes opened.
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