Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. Amongst others, the watchman whose box was placed against the churchyard wall, near the entrance to Shoe-lane, rushed out and sprung his rattle, which was immediately answered by another rattle from Holborn-bars. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud. . It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. The cave had always been considered an evil place by the braves and for the most part they left her alone.
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