Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald.
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