” The man smiled at him. "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. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. ’ ‘Truly?’ Melusine said excitedly.
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