It was very much like a real house, with one central stalagmite that looked like a column and a waterfall that served when she wanted to bathe. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. . The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. They send you every good wish. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss.
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