"I could hang him now if I liked. Do you hear me? Do you hear what I am saying?. " Without waiting for a reply, but darting a malevolent look at the prisoner, he quitted the cell, the door of which was instantly double-locked and bolted. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. Yes, very well. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions.
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