“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. He drove her to the Beck house, pulling up behind Cathy's red Nissan. Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators.
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