266 She peered up at him. I've always been more or less music-mad. Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. ‘You’d do the same. Outside the door stood one of the soldiers.
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