How old are you?” She asked. Where was the harm in letting her go? She could not get far. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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