“What do you mean?” she asked. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. "Do you take me for as great a villain as yourself, Sir?" said the knight, rising.
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