CHAPTER CXXV.
MRS. LOVETT SEES SOME TWILIGHT SPECTRES IN HER CELL.
After she had sat for some time in this state of feeling, and just before the darkness got so apparent that but little could be seen of the few articles that the place contained, she heard the door open.
A flash of light came into the place.
“Who is that?” she cried.
“Oh, you needn’t think as it’s robbers—it’s only me,” said a voice. “You are quite safe here, ma’am. That’s one good of being in the stone jug: you needn’t be afraid of thieves breaking into your place.”
She saw that it was the turnkey whose duty it was to keep watch in the passage outside her cell.
“What do you want here?” she said, “Cannot I have the poor privilege of being left alone?”
“Oh, yes, only it’s your rations’ time, and here’s your boiled ri
