A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. In short, more preparations were made than if a state criminal was about to be executed. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. He had not had time to aim the pistol. Horrid snorters! So long, Vee! Just suggested it. I should like to have had you forgive me. And the less “anything” happened the better. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. But, if you have any particular fancy for hanging the gentleman, who chose to take the law into his own hands—and I think your motive extremely disinterested and praiseworthy—why, it's just possible, if you make it worth my while, that your desires may be gratified.
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