Chapter 50
LET US PRAY! That was the sole c***k in the prison where these two sat immured alone from their kind--unless, indeed, the curate might know of another. One thing Helen had ground for being certain of--that the curate would tell them no more than he knew. Even George Bascombe, who did not believe one thing he said, counted him an honest man! Might she venture to consult him, putting the case as of a person who had done very wrong--say stolen money or committed forgery or something? Might she not thus gather a little honey of comfort and bring it home to Leopold? Thinking thus and thus she sat silent; and all the time the suffering eyes were fixed upon her face, looking for no comfort, but finding there all they ever had of rest. "Are you thinking about the sermon, Helen?" he asked. "Wha
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