His hunger satisfied, his spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood all his natural audacity returned. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. He trembled violently. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. ‘I am not French in the least, bête.
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