Giles Bowl I. "And I," muttered Jack. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. ‘Quick, Gérard. Meysey Hill—never your wife. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark.
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