Bob grabbed it and, before it could go out, nursed the flicker in his cupped hands, not realizing that it was burning his fingers cruelly. Carefully, yet swiftly, he carried the flame to the little pile of threads. As these caught, his heart grew light with thankfulness.,
'If,' resumed the marchioness, 'you prefer imprisonment with your mother, to a marriage with the duke, you may still secret yourself in the passage we have just quitted, and partake of the provision which is brought me.',
Bob almost sobbed with his great disappointment. It seemed to be the end; there was nothing more to be done. He had explored the room—every nook and cranny of it—and he had come across nothing that could be used..
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