Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself.
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