“Cheveney!” she repeated. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. “You’re very nice, both of you,” she said gently. 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. His friendship seemed a thing worth having. Have you brought me a message from my sister? I understood, I believe, that she was seeing you last night. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. “No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed.
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