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. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. There was no need to be afraid for me. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. Gerald watched its approach with vague interest, which quickened when he saw that it was drawing up outside the very house out of which he had just stepped. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. ’ Melusine’s voice petered out.
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