" CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. ToC Tyburn was now at hand. After all, this could never be the black sheep. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely.
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