” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. 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. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. ‘Parbleu,’ said Gerald. You know the sort of thing. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently.
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