But I expect him back every minute. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire.
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