His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. She addressed Capes as though she spoke to him alone. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. Since her husband has laid me under such a weight of obligation, I couldn't, in honour, continue— hem!" and he took another explanatory pinch. Even though I knew you’d no one else to care.
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