Mind you don't stir till supper's over. Lucy entered and Mike followed. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. “Hey, Mike. If I can’t talk anywhere else—I DO want an understanding. It is a cheering reflection, that in the present prison, with its clean, wellwhitewashed, and well-ventilated wards, its airy courts, its infirmary, its improved regulations, and its humane and intelligent officers, many of the miseries of the old jail are removed. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. She felt her canines grow, the hunger consuming her.
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