She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Jolly nice girl, too. "Prisoner at the bar," thus ran the sentence, "you shall be taken to the prison from whence you came, and put into a mean room, stopped from the light; and shall there be laid on the bare ground, without any litter, straw, or other covering, and without any garment. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it.
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