It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. . Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. “They seem smaller, you know, even physically smaller,” she said. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. He had the appearance of a man who has known no rest for many nights. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin.
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