’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air. A large body of the constables of Westminster next made their appearance, the chief of whom entered the Lodge, where they were speedily joined by the civic authorities. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. "Have a little patience, Sir," rejoined the jailer.
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