“Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. "Because it's not like you," was her answer. ‘Nevertheless, you will marry me,’ he snarled. 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.
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