His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. But, as this produced no effect, and did not even elicit a groan, the prisoner was carried back to Newgate. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. For freedom at least. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind.
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