" "A promise to my mother?" said Winifred, unsuspiciously. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. "He can't escape. 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. Leave Martin Chen and his family alone.
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