But she was relentless. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered to depart without giving a satisfactory account of himself, or producing a pass from the Master. "I've got something to say to you," continued the speaker, rather less harshly; "something to your advantage; so come out o' your hiding-place, and let's have some supper, for I'm infernally hungry. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that.
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