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. "Right," said the Master, "I didn't think of her. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. "You poor child!" said Prudence.
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