The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. "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 is a tale of two young fools. The chair was torture. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. \" The thick girl with the blue- black hair spat. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone.
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