" "No more of this," rejoined Thames, "or we shall quarrel. "Very well, Mr. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. Surely it was a dream. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. She remembered Taber's hat.
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