“Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. You'll be wasting his time.
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