There was nothing to replace the all important letter from her father. "These writer chaps are queer birds. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved.
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