In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. . Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child.
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