Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it.
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