Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. Finding all attempts at conversation with his companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic structure standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky.
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