Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious.
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