And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. But if we had gone under—!” They regarded one another silently, and Ann Veronica had one of her penetrating flashes. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. “This isn’t a world for an innocent girl to walk about in. We’re handfuls. And here are these places, full of contagion! “Of course, this is the real texture of life, this is what we refined secure people forget.
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