White, who held out her hand and beamed a welcome upon him. It was a huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in repairing the structure. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. Could she go through with it? She must. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St.
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