She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. ‘To me, quickly!’ There was a brief hush, and then the shouts resumed and several pairs of feet clattered towards her from, as it seemed, several directions. The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same thick legs. “I have made no progress with my work,” she said slowly, “and the money was gone. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection.
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