If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. I suppose I believe in God. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. ’ ‘Also madame his wife—’ Charvill’s gorge rose. The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer.
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