4. "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. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. The stranger turned his head at the sound. She tried to think what she should do in this eventuality or that. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. If she kept on, would she make it out of the door? Then what? He could come after her before she could reach the secret passage. . But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. A fine doctor from the Arte de Medici e Speziali was commissioned directly from Rome to oversee her care. I’m glad 237 you came over.
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