’ ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her manner was a degree less warm. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. For you say that you swim. She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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