I—I hurt myself. The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. It was empty. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. The room in which he was detained—that lately occupied by the Mohocks, who, it appeared, had been allowed to depart,—was calculated to inspire additional apprehension and disgust. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. As he turned the handle, it moved, and the door was taken from his hand and pulled outward by the young footman. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. He stood still, almost breathless. "I am innocent, f have stolen nothing. Most of them didn’t, anyhow.
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