Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. I would like to have to tell it so. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached.
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