It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind.
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