E. CHAPTER II. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. . It had ceased now, but as he closed in on the area, a faint muttering came to his ears. . The plank hung over his head. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Her mind left her.
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