But she was disappointed. Along the floor ran an iron bar to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he could move along it from one end of the chamber to the other. Men had tried that before, but never until now had they been quick enough. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. Then Sheila noticed the stains. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. He smiled. He tried again. I haven't touched the other. The touch of her hands was pleasurable. "Have you broken out of the cage, Jack?" "Something like it," replied the lad carelessly.
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