You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. "Prisoner at the bar," thus ran the sentence, "you shall be taken to the prison from whence you came, and put into a mean room, stopped from the light; and shall there be laid on the bare ground, without any litter, straw, or other covering, and without any garment. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head.
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