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Updated: June 24, 2025
During my first week's residence in Holloway Gaol, owing to the bad weather, I exercised in the corridor with the other inmates of the A wing. There is little more room between the cell doors and the railing overlooking the well than suffices for the passage of a single person.
It was agreed that Lord Rawson should drive his friend to Marryborough the next Tuesday, and that he should return on Wednesday, with Holloway, to Westminster, on purpose that he might meet Mr. Carat there, who was then to deliver the prizes. "I'll lay you a bet," cried Lord Rawson, as he left the Jew's, "that you'll have a prize yourself.
The clamour was now added to by the entrance of the band, who mingled the sounds of tuning instruments with the other discords prevalent. Just at this juncture in came Mr. Holloway, who commenced the packing process, much to the amusement of our lady friend, who now began, in spite of the heat, the offensive smells, and the row, to become curious, and determined to see all that was to be seen.
Holloway took out the parcel, looked over the drawings, and said that he had bought the number for the sake of the Rembrandt, which he thought possibly genuine; taking that out, Adams might have the rest for the price he paid for the lot twelve shillings. Thus, down to that moment, every expert in London had probably seen these drawings.
"Your Honors, if we are now to discuss the sapience question, I would suggest that the first item on our order of business be the presentation of some acceptable definition of sapience. I should, for my part, very much like to know what it is that the Kellogg prosecution and the Holloway defense mean when they use that term." That's it. They want us to define it.
Her sexual knowledges, so far as they went, were as close and searching as a small-tooth comb, and collected as much that was undesirable. She despised May. May was a fool. She was soppy, talking about all these things as if they were new marvels, when they were as old as the hills and as old as the crude coquetries of boys and girls. May was the soppiest girl in Holloway.
That evening Burnett felt it necessary to give his friend a word of warning. "Holloway’s going to take Betty in to-night," he said, as they descended the tower stairs together. "Who’s Holloway?" Jack asked. "You can’t expect to have her all the time, you know," Burnett continued: "She’s really one of the biggest guns here, even if she is one of the family." "Who’s Holloway?"
He struck out two of the judges, Powel and Holloway, who had appeared to favor the bishops: he issued orders to prosecute all those clergymen who had not read his declaration; that is, the whole church of England, two hundred excepted: he sent a mandate to the new fellows whom he had obtruded on Magdalen College, to elect for president, in the room of Parker, lately deceased, one Gifford, a doctor of the Sorbonne, and titular bishop of Madura: and he is even said to have nominated the same person to the see of Oxford.
Somehow it fitted her personality so effectually: for despite the physical appeal of her beauty, now accentuated by the risque costume which she had donned, at the professional suggestion of Dick Holloway, there was a pervasive spirituality in the girl's face, her hands, and the tones of her soft voice.
In crossing the passage, to go to her carriage, she caught a glimpse of the mulatto woman, who was going into a parlour. Resolute, at all hazards, to satisfy herself, Mrs. Holloway called to the retreating Cuba began by asking some civil questions about her health; then spoke of the accident she had lately met with; and, in short, by a skilful cross-examination, drew her whole story from her.
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