'And what if it was me, who knows so much about all of us, and could put us all in prison and get us all hanged? ' whispered Fagin, his eyes flashing with hate.
He thought about death by hanging - the rope, the cloth bag over the head, the sudden change from strong men to bundles of clothes, hanging at the end of a rope.
If it hadn't been for Ashley dragging me out of there and making me get on my horse, I'd have stayed there like a fool and probably had my neck stretched by now.
Her nails dug into her palms until four bright-red crescents showed. How could Melanie read on and on so calmly when Ashley was in danger of being hanged?