On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. One thing may be a necessary collateral of the others. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. . "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. " Winifred's eyes filled with tears.
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