Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. “It was not necessary,” Sir John answered stiffly. We two. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall.
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