Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards.
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