“Hi. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. Naturally it all came out then. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. She stared at his pleading face. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss. ‘Do you at least know how he came to be in a position to cheat Miss Charvill, and to pass off his wife in her place?’ ‘In her place?’ There was no mistaking the boy’s ignorance of this part of the tale. And most of the others she had met had, she felt, the same steadfastness.
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