Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration.
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