Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. 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. Just by walking in you can tell if it is a good house or a bad house.
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