A stout, red-faced turnkey, with a good-tempered countenance, admitted her into the obscure lobby, behind which was a passage where a gas-light burns all day long.
"Who do you want, ma'am?" said the turnkey.
"Mr. Tracy," was the reply.
"Are you any relation to him?"
"His sister. I have just arrived from the country."
"Please to write your name down in this book."
Lady Cecilia, who seldom lost her presence of mind, instantly took up the pen, and wrote down "Anne Tracy."
"Excuse me, ma'am," said the turnkey, "but if you have any knife in your pocket you must leave it here."
"I have none," answered Cecilia.
"Take that passage, ma'am, and you will find a turnkey who will admit you to Tracy's cell."