The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. ” Ennison turned round sharply. The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. Quick, now. An electric light flashed out from the wall.
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