And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint. This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude. Sister’s got married to that bounder Ferringhall. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. To prevent the recurrence of any such escape as that just described, it was deemed expedient, in more recent times, to keep a watchman at the top of Newgate. . And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. It's fine with me if it's fine with Cathy, darlin’. At least here she was safe.
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