\"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting. “Cheer up, Annabel. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street. "There won't be much left for you," he said.
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