Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised. Ramage came for her at her lodgings, and she met him graciously and kindly as a queen who knows she must needs give sorrow to a faithful liege.
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