" And thus their domesticity at McClintock's began—with the tubbing of a stray yellow dog. It must be the dawn creeping in. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. “Can Lucy and I go out for a walk?” Michelle interrupted the violin conversation petulantly.
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