The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again. Besides, I thought you despised killing women. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. “A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields.
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