The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. ” Lucy replied. . A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her.
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