"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. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. Instead, her husband was probably wise. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. ‘But that will do for a start. He was a fool.
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