"I'm come to say good bye to you, and to assure you of my safety before I leave this place. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate.
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