As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Gerald liked her enormously. Without Jack, it was certain that she faced danger if she went outside Golden Square. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended.
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