I was forced to lay on a bed of nails for three days. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. 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. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. .
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