She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly.
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