The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. Bah! She does not know me very well, and you—not at all. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat.
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