Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. “My only answer would be to ask you to look at that mirror and then at the poster. ‘On the contrary,’ Gerald argued, frowning. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off.
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