He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone.
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