And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. Saint Giles's Round-house. The white veil had fallen to the ground and Gerald retrieved it for her. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power.
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