Everything was blurred. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She hunted the markets for bread and treats so they could feast during the day. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. I want to hammer myself against all this that pens women in. PELLISSIER.
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