Explore "Guilty Bonds" by William Le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
With my wrists in bonds of iron, and my soul fettered by one idea -- horrible, implacable -- the days passed: I kept no count of them.
Whilst the glimmer of daylight shone through the chink above I spent the time sitting engrossed in my own sad thoughts, or pacing the narrow cell for exercise. When it had faded I cast myself, restless and nervous, upon the heap of evil-smelling straw that served as bed, waiting patiently for the reappearance of the streak of grey light.