She looked at her flattened belly. The Iron Bar
397
XVIII. Some years ago, in 1715, just
before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party,
and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to
escape with my head upon my shoulders. And if I don’t, I go mad. She would be haunted
by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the
next hundred years. Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil
any invented yarn. Covered
with houses, from one end to the other, this reverend and picturesque structure
presented the appearance of a street across the Thames. He met her eyes with his fiery
black gaze. In twenty minutes we meet
in the hall, remember. “Don’t you know, child, that this is
torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?”
Her face had become almost like a marble image. "But this is good enough to travel in, isn't it?"
"To be sure it is. "Where is my mother?" he added, regarding the knight with a searching glance. His breath grew shallower as he
approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his
hallway-reverberated footfalls.
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