Prudence twinkled at them, and reached out to pat Melusine’s hand. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. "I'll tell you why," he said. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. You went even to our rooms and saw my sister. I never want you to be ashamed of me.
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