At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison.
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