Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well. I knew it. . This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. ” He signed his name and reflected.
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