In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. I killed him, Nigel. ’ She shook her head. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. ‘Do not beg my pardon.
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