She was weeping now. Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. You’re all such good cooks. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. Such was the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts.
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