"Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest. Part 4 At eight that evening Miss Stanley tapped at Ann Veronica’s bedroom door. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically.
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