‘We was of an age, you see, miss. She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. Sheppard. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. Her head rose.
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