Matron:  “Yes, there is one woman here who has been sitting on the floor for the last three days and, except a little water, I don’t think she has swallowed a mouthful of food since she came in.  She is a violent person and uses foul language.  I do not think you had better see her.”

Margot:  “Thank you, I am not at all afraid.  Please take me to her cell.”

Matron (still reluctant and eyeing my figure):  “She may not speak to you, but if she does it might give you a shock.  Do you think you are wise to go in your present condition?”

Margot:  “Oh, that’s all right, thanks!  I am not easily shocked.”

When we came to the cell, I took the precaution of telling the matron she could leave me, as after this visit I should have to join my husband and I could find my way to the front hall by myself.  She opened the door in silence and let me in.

Crouching on the stone floor, in an animal attitude, I saw a woman.  She did not look up when I went in nor turn when I shut the door.  Her eyebrows almost joined above a square-tipped nose; and her eyes, shaded by long black lashes, were fixed upon the ground.  Her hair grew well, out of a beautiful forehead, and the red curve of her mouth gave expression to a wax-like face.  I had never seen a more striking-looking creature.

After my usual apology and a gentle recitative of why I had come, she turned what little I could see of her face away from me and whatever I suggested after that was greeted with impenetrable silence.

At last I said to her: 

“It is so difficult for me to stand and talk while you are sitting on the ground.  Won’t you get up?”

No answer.  At this—­being an active woman—­I sat down beside her on the stone floor and took her hand in both of mine.  She did not withdraw it, but lifted her lashes to look at me.  I noted the sullen, exhausted expression in her grey eyes; my heart beat at the beauty of her face.

“Why don’t you speak to me?” I said.  “I might, for all you know, be able to do a great deal for you.”

This was greeted by a faint gleam and a prolonged shake of the head.

Margot:  “You look very young.  What is it you did, that brought you into this prison,”

My question seemed to surprise her and after a moment’s silence she said: 

“Don’t you know why I am sentenced?”

Margot:  “No; and you need not tell me if you don’t want to.  How long are you here for?”

The woman (in a penetrating voice):  “Life!”

Margot:  “That’s impossible; no one is punished for life unless they commit murder; and even then the sentence is always shortened.”

The woman:  “Shortened in time for what?  For your death and burial?  Perhaps you don’t know how kind they are to us here!  No one is allowed to die in prison!  But by the time your health is gone, your hair white and your friends are dead, your family do not need you and all that can be done for you is done by charity.  You die and your eyes are closed by your landlady.”