She elected to go to prison. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. " "Agreed. Oh! that Mr. "Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. “I believe after all it’s coming out!” said Miss Stanley. ” He replied. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. She could stow away, go to a place where there were no people to eat and end her life. ‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip.
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