Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. They were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate brought them as gentlewomen should.
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