He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. In vain Wood protested his innocence. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. "Ah! but," said I, "there's a great deal in being hanged. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive.
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