She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. “How old are you?\" He looked at her engagingly. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. I heard John was talking about you again from Jenny McIntyre. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it.
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