"Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. No prisoner except Edgeworth Bess was placed in the same cell with him. ‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. She pulled her veil down, and he knew that silence was best. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. . He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. That’s how it takes me. Brendon.
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