She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy.
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