In their happiest times, he was the most faithful and devoted of husbands. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. 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. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence.
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