“There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. No one spoke to her.
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