She aimed directly at Rhea’s head. 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. Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their business. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. But I don't look for peace on this side the grave.
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