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Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens
page 132 of 1302 (10%)

'My brother,' said the old man, pausing on the step and slowly
facing round again, 'has been here many years; and much that
happens even among ourselves, out of doors, is kept from him for
reasons that I needn't enter upon now. Be so good as to say
nothing of my niece's working at her needle. Be so good as to say
nothing that goes beyond what is said among us. If you keep within
our bounds, you cannot well be wrong. Now! Come and see.'

Arthur followed him down a narrow entry, at the end of which a key
was turned, and a strong door was opened from within. It admitted
them into a lodge or lobby, across which they passed, and so
through another door and a grating into the prison. The old man
always plodding on before, turned round, in his slow, stiff,
stooping manner, when they came to the turnkey on duty, as if to
present his companion. The turnkey nodded; and the companion
passed in without being asked whom he wanted.

The night was dark; and the prison lamps in the yard, and the
candles in the prison windows faintly shining behind many sorts of
wry old curtain and blind, had not the air of making it lighter.
A few people loitered about, but the greater part of the population
was within doors. The old man, taking the right-hand side of the
yard, turned in at the third or fourth doorway, and began to ascend
the stairs. 'They are rather dark, sir, but you will not find
anything in the way.'

He paused for a moment before opening a door on the second story.
He had no sooner turned the handle than the visitor saw Little
Dorrit, and saw the reason of her setting so much store by dining
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