One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. . ’ He held his hands out of the way, surrendering his chest for her assault. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. He was in a position to help her.
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