Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pew where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds, which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. The Wastrel did not relish this. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park.
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