He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. He was aware of Hilary, in company with Lucilla and the comtesse’s daughter some few yards away, listening in suddenly. "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 house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. “Do you understand what I am talking about? It’s no good if you don’t. If not, keep up your spirits.
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