This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. You won’t want to be late the first evening, and it’s ten minutes past seven now. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was.
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