“What I am after is that beauty isn’t a special inserted sort of thing; that’s my idea. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. She led him up the long hall solemnly.
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