CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH THOUGHTS IN PRISON Part 1 The first night in prison she found it impossible to sleep. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack. Jack was lying so still, for a moment she panicked. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. He stood back and held her shoulders. "If any one's to blame, it's me. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. “What are your objections?” she said.
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