On the left there were doors communicating with the King's Bench Ward and the Stone Ward, two large holds on the Master Debtors' side. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. ” “Think not,” that young man remarked laconically.
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