As she stared her eyes grew accustomed to the night; and she discovered five persons instead of four. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. 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 looked around the apartment for other people. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe.
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