Their small talk continued. Built and paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay the customary fees. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. ‘For that I shall certainly not leave until you have told me every tiny detail. I don’t think you understand. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. Smith, "upon my conscience.
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