" "Everything. We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy city, and become degenerates. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone.
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