"
Miss Eunice grew scarlet. Presently she recovered sufficiently to pursue
some inquiries respecting the rules and customs of the prison. She did
not feel that she was interesting her friend, yet it seemed clear that
he did not wish to go away. His answers were curt, yet he swept his cap
off his head, implying by the act a certain reverence, which Miss
Eunice's vanity permitted her to exult at. Therefore she became more
loquacious than ever. Some men came up to speak with the prisoner, but
he shook them off, and remained in an attitude of strict attention,
with his chin on his hand, looking now at the sky, now at the ground and
now at Miss Eunice.
In handling the flowers her gloves had been stained, and she now held
them in her fingers nervously twisting them as she talked. In the course
of time she grew short of subjects, and as her listener suggested
nothing, several lapses occurred; in one of them she absently spread her
gloves out in her palms, meanwhile wondering how the English girl acted
under similar circumstances.
Suddenly a large hand slowly interposed itself between her eyes and her
gloves, and then withdrew, taking one of the soiled trifles with it.
She was surprised, but the surprise was pleasurable. She said nothing at
first. The prisoner gravely spread his prize out upon his own palm, and
after looking at it carefully, he rolled it up into a tight ball and
thrust it deep in an inner pocket.
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