"It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. Deny me, if you please. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter.
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