"Will she live, sir?" A voice rang up distantly in the darkness of Carlotta's black dreams. It's echo was akin to that of a sound made in a tunnel.
"Ye, bu' I doub' she gonna recover from 'er breathin' problems. She gonna 'ave ter chew on some o' them 'erbs all the time. S'bad luck tha' i' star'ed rainin'. Infec'ed 'er lungs, tha', as'f there's worse."
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Bad experience
