They mean something. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully.
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