Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. So he's come around, then? That's fine. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough.
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