"Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. Both these ladies possessed considerable personal attractions. Epithalamy might do.
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