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      "My dear friend, I have a charmed life in this city.  I have been a Bastille prisoner.  There is no patriot in Paris--in Paris?  In France--who, knowing me to have been a prisoner in the Bastille, would touch me, except to overwhelm me with embraces, or carry me in triumph.  My old pain has given me a power that has brought us through the barrier, and gained us news of Charles there, and brought us here.  I knew it would be so; I knew I could help Charles out of all danger; I told Lucie so.--What is that noise?"  His hand was again upon the window. 
 
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      "Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry, absolutely desperate.  "No, Lucie, my dear, nor you!"  He got his arm round her, and held her.  "Don't be so terrified, my love.  I solemnly swear to you that I know of no harm having happened to Charles; that I had no suspicion even of his being in this fatal place.  What prison is he in?" 
     "La Force!" 
 
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