The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. "You should be glad to be made an honest woman. That is what I’ve had on my conscience.
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