" "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. She turned back into the hall. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. I saw him lying on the footway. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. 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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