"Please tell me whenever I am at fault. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. Folks don’t like ’em. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. I waited for her at the back.
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