The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. On the right of the postern against the wall was affixed a small grating, sustaining the debtor's box; and any pleasure which the passerby might derive from contemplating the splendid structure above described was damped at beholding the pale faces and squalid figures of the captives across the bars of its strongly-grated windows. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. ‘Though he didn’t mean it.
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