He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. At a turn in the road, he perceived Winifred looking anxiously towards him, and when she discovered him, she waved her hand. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. Her eyes were wide and bright. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound.
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