"Zounds!" cried Kneebone, furiously. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage.
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