Then she looked up at Brendon. See paragraph 1. " "I see. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. She donned her gloves. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. You see, we guys bump up against so much of the seamy side that we look upon everybody as guilty until proved innocent, which is hind-side-to.
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