She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. ’ She tossed her head. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. "Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes.
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