“I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him. Hetty, who had periods of lucid expression, put the thing for her from her pillow. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. There was a flash and a loud report. 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.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNy4xNzIuMTYwIC0gMDMtMDYtMjAyNCAxNzoyNjo0MCAtIDY1MTYxOTM2OA==
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