’ ‘Who were they?’ she asked abruptly. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. Ownership seemed only a reasonable return for the cares and expenses of a daughter’s upbringing.
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