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Chapter 15: No Good Deed

In the end, she was deposited in a small, windowless room. Save for the addition of a scuffed wooden table with two stools tucked fastidiously beneath, it was not so different from her own despised quarters. She stood a pace into the room and shivered, looking back anxiously at the sergeant. He hovered by the door, and offered a hesitant, sympathetic smile. "Stay here, Miss; the inspector'll be in shortly to speak with you."

"The- the inspector!" she exclaimed, her voice faltering. "Surely a... a stolen newspaper could not merit such rigor! Why would the inspector care to speak to me?" A small, niggling doubt lodged itself in her mind then, an uneasiness which could not be entertained for any longer than a moment. It must have spoken plainly on her face, for the sergeant grimaced, and his kind eyes looked away before closing the door heavily behind him. The oil lamps flickered in their stands, casting odd shadows from corner

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