But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home.
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