"I'll make a sketch, too," he said. 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 white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. The doctor sensed that his bolt had gone wrong, but he could not tell how or why. ***** Ruth and the doctor returned to the hotel at four.
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