She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. I shall only pray that I may reward you for all your goodness to me. She was not allowed to bathe herself: another prisoner, with a privileged manner, washed her. He guided himself between her legs. Recollect that. I say again, grace à vous. Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying he scarce knew whither (for there was such a continual buzzing in his ears and dancing in his eyes, as almost to take away the power of reflection), he held on at a brisk pace till his strength completely failed him.
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