"I was to tell you, citizeness," she said the moment the door had
been closed and she was alone with Marguerite, "that the prison
authorities have given orders that I should search you before you
visit the prisoner."
She repeated this phrase mechanically like a child who has been
taught to say a lesson by heart. She was a stoutish middle-aged
woman, with that pasty, flabby skin peculiar to those who live in
want of fresh air; but her small, dark eyes were not unkindly,
although they shifted restlessly from one object to another as if
she were trying to avoid looking the other woman straight in the
face.
"That you should search me!" reiterated Marguerite slowly, trying
to understand.
"Yes," replied the woman. "I was to tell you to take off your
clothes, so that I might look them through and through. I have
often had to do this before when visitors have been allowed inside
the prison, so it is no use your trying to deceive me in any way.
I am very sharp at finding out if any one has papers, or files or
ropes concealed in an underpetticoat. Come," she added more
roughly, seeing that Marguerite had remained motionless in the
middle of the room; "the quicker you are about it the sooner you
will be taken to see the prisoner.
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