The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. A glance satisfied Jonathan that the turnkey was not aware of the prisoner's escape; and he resolved not to destroy what he considered a good jest, by a premature disclosure of it. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. She shook her head. "For ever!" said the thief-taker, preparing to follow. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied.
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