Spurling, half aside. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. The room seemed a vacuum. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. ’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl.
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