She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. That is my way, my dear. He described her privately to himself as a splendid girl. You have made enough sacrifices for her surely without this. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. ‘He was our first commander, and a more stiff-necked—’ ‘Exactly so,’ concurred Lady Bicknacre. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. For a while he threatened her.
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