It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. “These are her rooms,” she said. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. ’ Taken aback, Gerald let out a short laugh. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens. ” She came closer. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world.
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