It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. 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. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. A dreamy sense of content crept over him.
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