I had left Paris. She made an abrupt personal appeal. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. "I should like to meet the man who would dare to gainsay it. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. The first of these, the Press Room, a dark close chamber, near Waterman's Hall, obtained its name from an immense wooden machine kept in it, with which such prisoners as refused to plead to their indictments were pressed to death—a species of inquisitorial torture not discontinued until so lately as the early part of the reign of George the Third, when it was abolished by an express statute.
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