She woke up choking and belching water. "I see nothing surprising in it," rejoined Jonathan. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat.
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