This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. If only one might open the shutters and let in the light. . ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. " "If I ask you to part with him, my good woman, it's to better his condition, I suppose, ain't it?" rejoined Wood angrily; for, though he had no serious intention of carrying his proposal into effect, he was rather offended at having it declined.
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