"Dreamed!" echoed the knight, with a ghastly smile. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. " She sent a covert glance toward the young man. Besides those whom I've slain with my own hands, I've brought upwards of thirty persons to the gallows. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. “I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool.
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