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. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. I knew where I would go next: Florence. But what a monster was this Emile. I must leave England to-night.
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