In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. " "What do you want me to do?" The doctor thought this query gave hopeful promise. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there.
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