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I’m not hungry.”
“You soon will be. This is a feast compared to what you get on the prison hulks.” Libby pulled two coarse looking biscuits out of her pocket and Maryanne forced herself to nibble on one.
“Where did you get these from?” she asked the Irish girl.
“I bought them, along with a few other things. You can buy extras if you’ve got coin in your pocket.” Libby gave a mirthless laugh. “I’ve got nothing left now; I’ve been here eight months.”
“Eight months, and you’re still waiting for a ship?” Maryanne wondered fearfully how long she would be able to survive in this dreadful, disease-ridden place.
“Yes, when my coin ran out, I bartered the only other thing I possessed. I mean to survive, no matter what I have to do.”
“I’ve got nothing to barter with. All I possess is this old rag I’m wearing.” Maryanne glanced down at the filthy black taffeta gown she had worn for weeks. No wonder she felt so dirty and degraded.
“I know. That’s why I felt sorry for you when they dumped you off here, you had absolutely nothing. Most of us carried something when we came in, even if it was just a bundle of rags.”