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. The window was shortly after opened, and a rope ladder, with a lighted horn lantern attached to it, let down. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. “This,” he said, and then: “No! Is this sweeter? Very well. "Is the case of watches on board?" he asked in an under tone. ‘This is not love, Marthe.
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