The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life.
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