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What befell Mr. Pickwick when he got into the Fleet; what Prisoners he saw there; and how he passed

           Roker;‘andwhatofthat?Who’sgottosayanythingaginit?Livedownthere!Yes,andawerygoodplaceitistolivein,ain’tit?’

           AsRokerturnedsomewhatfiercelyuponMr.Pickwickinsayingthis,andmoreovermutteredinanexcitedfashioncertainunpleasantinvocationsconcerninghisowneyes,limbs,andcirculatingfluids,thelattergentlemandeemeditadvisabletopursuethediscoursenofurther.Mr.Rokerthenproceededtomountanotherstaircase,asdirtyasthatwhichledtotheplacewhichhasjustbeenthesubjectofdiscussion,inwhichascenthewascloselyfollowedbyMr.PickwickandSam.

           ‘There,’saidMr.Roker,pausingforbreathwhentheyreachedanothergalleryofthesamedimensionsastheonebelow,‘thisisthecoffee-roomflight;theoneabove’sthethird,andtheoneabovethat’sthetop;andtheroomwhereyou’rea-goingtosleepto-nightisthewarden’sroom,andit’sthiswaycomeon.’Havingsaidallthisinabreath,Mr.RokermountedanotherflightofstairswithMr.PickwickandSamWellerfollowingathisheels.

           Thesestaircasesreceivedlightfromsundrywindowsplacedatsomelittledistanceabovethefloor,andlookingintoagravelledareaboundedbyahighbrickwall,withironCHEVAUX–DE–FRISEatthetop.Thisarea,itappearedfromMr.

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