A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. " "And never should again, were he mine," rejoined Jonathan. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view.
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