“You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked his way to it. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. Prudence? Mr Remenham’s sister that was. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. . The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate.
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