His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. She dismissed the idea of doing so. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks.
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