’ ‘I have found Mary Remenham’s daughter,’ he repeated. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. I’ll do it. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. I might add that in any case I should not touch Sir John’s. The man himself was not a pleasant object. ’ Hilary stared at him. Built and paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay the customary fees.
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