‘Poor Mary had no idea about the elopement Nicholas had undertaken,’ she told Gerald. The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. Before her was a great Gothic portal. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. When sentence was passed there wasn't a dry eye in the court. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. "As like as life.
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