"It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. ” “Nor I,” she remarked tersely. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. It surprised her she hadn’t thought of it before! She tried to explain that she was going to pay him forty pounds without fail next week. She deserves what has befallen her. There's a letter for the head turnkey, Mr. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck.
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