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“You told me that your name was Meysey Hill. He pulled down a chair to her left. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her. She was obliged to concede that his features were pleasing, his strength and vitality attractive; and there was no denying how well this uniform of a militia suited his figure, which was lean and powerful both. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face.
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