They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. "There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Condemned Hould," laughed the man. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. The prospect of the gallows would never deter me from taking to the road, if I were so inclined. She had been so young then. Here, without a glimpse of daylight; visited by no one except Austin at stated intervals, who neither answered a question nor addressed a word to him; fed upon the worst diet, literally mouldy bread and ditch-water; surrounded by stone walls; with a flagged floor for his pillow, and without so much as a blanket to protect him from the death-like cold that pierced his frame,—Jack's stout heart was subdued, and he fell into the deepest dejection, ardently longing for the time when even a violent death should terminate his sufferings. She wanted him so badly it hurt.
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