. Everyone has gone away again, so that I can do so all alone. Manning, abruptly. "You are all right?"—anxiously. “What are you doing?” He cried. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night. "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. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us.
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