A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. It was Annabel who spoke. "No," replied Wild; "and I've only listened to your absurd proposal to see how far your insane attachment to this lad would carry you. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. ‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.
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