But he could only utter an inarticulate exclamation. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. . Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. A bad man, in fact. But they did not know how good she was, how perfect she was. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. She twisted her fingers tightly. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself.
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