But there was a face pressed to the glass. . ” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. 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. “This ain’t no place for you.
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