“It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. “Tut, tut!” he said. It is a cheering reflection, that in the present prison, with its clean, wellwhitewashed, and well-ventilated wards, its airy courts, its infirmary, its improved regulations, and its humane and intelligent officers, many of the miseries of the old jail are removed. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. "I have a token to deliver to you," continued the stranger, addressing her. She pointed suddenly at the portrait.
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