The next morning came a compact letter from her father. Wood, was examined. He turned, and beheld Winifred. The south or principal front, looking, down the Old Bailey, and not upon it, as is the case of the present structure, with its massive walls of roughened freestone,—in some places darkened by the smoke, in others blanched, by exposure to the weather,—its heavy projecting cornice, its unglazed doubly-grated windows, its gloomy porch decorated with fetters, and defended by an enormous iron door, had a stern and striking effect. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently.
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