“I mean to,” she replied. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. He turned his back on that temptation. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. "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. This time there wasn't any doubt. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. "At a thought. Once in England, she made all haste to visit Remenham House. I told her it was the end. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women.
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