"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. You want
music. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’
‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her
to the door. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her
complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably,
by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes
which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely
more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. Even in this dread moment Ruth was
conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. "
"Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it
required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the
individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented
himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting
the infant. “We will try and make you happy, my dear, so that you
may learn that lovemaking is perhaps a little more than
your idea of a woman’s duty. “I’m d——d if I understand this,” he said thoughtfully. She romanticized, imagining a life on
the High Seas. Wood's," was the reply.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 07-07-2024 13:58:14