Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. As a consequence of its small size, it was possible to get along with the work on a much easier and more colloquial footing than a larger class would have permitted. Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof.
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