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. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion.
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