The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. “We played at love-making in Paris. ” The two congregated instantly. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. Perhaps for the first time he realized that Anna was by no means an ordinary person.
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