It’s an emerald. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. \" They talked until midnight most nights. It is a cheering reflection, that in the present prison, with its clean, wellwhitewashed, and well-ventilated wards, its airy courts, its infirmary, its improved regulations, and its humane and intelligent officers, many of the miseries of the old jail are removed. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. The wings stopped. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him.
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