If only they would let me write as I wish, I should be quite content, but they punish me on every pretext.

Why do they do it, Frank?
Why do they want to make my life here one long misery ?" "Aren't you a little deaf still ?" I asked, to ease the passion I felt of intolerable pity.
"Yes," he replied, "on this side, where I fell in the chapel.

I fell on my ear, you know, and I must have burst the drum of it, or injured it in some way, for all through the winter it has ached and it often bleeds a little." "But they could give you some cotton wool or something to put in it ?" I said.
He smiled a poor wan smile: "If you think one dare disturb a doctor or a warder for an earache, you don't know much about a prison; you would pay for it.

Why, Frank, however ill I was now," and he lowered his voice to a whisper and glanced about him as if fearing to be overheard, "however ill I was I would not think of sending for the doctor.

Not think of it," he said in an awestruck voice.