He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. "I shall like to call you that. Why don’t you go in? Charvill is there. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers.
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