Occasionally an attempt was made to drag me into conversation, but I parried all advances with as little offence as possible.

One dirty short man, grievously afflicted with scurvy, or something worse, several times manoeuvred to get behind me, and at last he succeeded.

"How long ye doin', mate ?" No answer.

"I say, mate, how long ye doin' ?" No answer.

"A damned long time, _I_ know, or they wouldn' give ye a -- -- new suit like that, ye stuck-up -- ----." What oaths I heard in that wretched gaol! No abomination of human speech is unknown to me.