“Poor old Alice!” Her brother Roddy came to her and demanded tea, and asked her to state a case. . The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. “The Widgetts,” she said. "Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence.
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