Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. They hissed me!” “Beasts!” he muttered. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum.
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