The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. She followed the official back into his room. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. Then, when the tension was getting unendurable, and she was on the verge of speaking to some casual passer-by and demanding help, her follower vanished. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door. He was in the house with his mother.
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