There was a gentle rustling of skirts. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. And the woollen-draper departed. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy.
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