But few expressions of sympathy were offered to the coughing, shivering, dripping woman, who sat silently in the chair upon the sands.

She was meek enough now when the guards came to unbuckle the straps and free her.

Even after she was released, she sat in the chair, strangling, coughing and shivering.
John Stevens made his way through the crowd and, going up to the woman, who seemed almost lifeless, began: "Dame Linkon, I am most truly sorry that this has been done--" At sound of his voice, the half-inanimate form seemed suddenly inspired with life and vigor, and, bounding to her feet with a shriek of rage, she dealt him a blow with her open hand on the side of his head, which made him see more stars than can usually be discerned on the clearest night.

He staggered and, but for the sheriff, would have fallen..