On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. Marvel, then, took two iron weights, each of a hundred pounds, and placed them in the press.
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