That could signify nothing except that the doctor had a friend down there somewhere, on an island in one of those archipelagoes. Nice, of course. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. ToC Saint Giles's Round-house was an old detached fabric, standing in an angle of Kendrick Yard. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall.
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