Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild.
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