This reached, a jailer pushed the Representative in by the shoulders, and the door was shut.
The Representative, thus immured, found himself in a little, long, narrow, dark room.

It is this which the prudent language of modern legislation terms a "cell." Here the full daylight of a December noon only produced a dusky twilight.

At one end there was a door, with a little grating; at the other, close to the ceiling, at a height of ten or twelve feet, there was a loophole with a fluted glass window.

This window dimmed the eye, and prevented it from seeing the blue or gray of the sky, or from distinguishing the cloud from the sun's ray, and invested the wan daylight of winter with an indescribable uncertainty.

It was even less than a dim light, it was a turbid light.