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Next chapter: Chapter 54
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... lans to pass the hours.

I could fling my chamber pot like a frisbee at the window hard enough to break the iron bars and climb down by tying my bedsheets together. But the chamber pot of cheap tin isn’t strong enough to bend iron bars wider than my tiny wrist. Besides, at the moment, it is embarrassingly full as the servant who brings in my meals like clockwork empties it at that time.

It’s small moments like this that make me fervently long for modern appliances like the toilet. ...

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