Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. “What do we want? What is the goal?” asked Ann Veronica. 142 < 18 > THE HIGH PRICE OF FAME Michelle became a constant in those weeks, basking in the shame-ridden celebrity that had been created around Lucy. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. Open the window, Thames, and call for assistance. She had never said anything so horrible to anyone in her life. .
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