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Mr. ” The strain in her face was visible as she tried to remember. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. ” She stared before her, trying to keep back a rush of tears. Over the gateway towards Snow Hill, were two strong wards, called the Castle and the Red Room.
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