Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. “But I am your husband,” he said. It was as if he could smell it on her. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. “That is where I got confused,” he said. Prison was beastly.
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