As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Lucy was charmed; how peaceful the baby looked. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it. She remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin when the patient recovered consciousness.
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