“How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. "Something's wrong. ” Some one hidden from Ann Veronica appeared to be marshalling the assembly. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. In a few seconds, the shutter flew open,—then the window,—and they were in the room. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release.
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