Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. “Quite unusually cold for the time of year,” he said. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. 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's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer.
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