One day she had thrown all the gifts into the lagoon, and visited the secret nook no more. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible. "It is with no small concern," writes an anonymous historian of Newgate, "that I am obliged to observe that the women in every ward of this prison are exceedingly worse than the worst of the men not only in respect to their mode of living, but more especially as to their conversation, which, to their great shame, is as profane and wicked as hell itself can possibly be. They don’t know who did it, actually. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. ” She was able to go straight to her room without delay, and she at once locked the door with a little sigh of relief.
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