'—'No fear o' that,' thought I. The weather harmonized with their feelings. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. But that explains everything. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered.
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