Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. Her faith in human beings revived. “It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. ’ ‘Even that he is, one must be practical. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. . I have said that I am but a nun now. Independently of other risks, and of the chance of breaking his neck in the descent, he was aware that to reach the leads he should have to break open six of the strongest doors of the prison.
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