“Did it seem like I was in pain to you?” She smirked. She could not help but swoon a little. "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 voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. By-the-bye,” he added, in a suddenly altered tone, “I hope, I trust—that you have not entered into any arrangements with any one here?” “I—oh no!” Anna said, a little faintly. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm.
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