"They were like this," he said, making an angle with the knuckles of his forefinger on the top of his bald head, and looking at us with a pathetic air of sincerity.

It was the most ludicrous spectacle I ever witnessed.
During the few visits he paid me, Parson Plaford was fairly civil.
Mr.Ramsey seems to have been the subject of his impertinence.

My fellow-prisoner was informed that we deserved transportation for life.
Yet at that time the chaplain had not even _seen_ the publication for which we were imprisoned! However, his son had, and he was "a trustworthy young man." Towards the end of his term Mr.Ramsey found the charitable heart of the man of God relent so far as to allow that transportation for life was rather too heavy a punishment for our offence, which only deserved perpetual detention in a lunatic asylum.
For the last ten months of my term Parson Plaford neither honoured nor dishonored my cell with his presence.

Soon after I was domiciled in the A wing he called to see me.

I rose from my stool and made him a satirical bow.