“You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison.
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