No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him.
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