The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. 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. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly.
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