" So saying, he unlocked the door and strode out of the room. CHAPTER VIII. But why do you ask?" "Because—" stammered the boy. " "What's the matter?" remarked Kneebone, addressing Sheppard, who, as he caught the single but piercing eye of Jackson fixed upon him, started and trembled. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup.
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