I was kept in bed that morning until after the rounds of inspection. The Governor was very civil. He urged me to give the required assurance and bind myself over “to be of good behaviour,” that I might leave the prison. He asked if I had “considered” my mother. I have no doubt he thought it his duty to talk in this way, and probably he was trying to be kind as well. At the time, however, his insinuation seemed more like a blow in the face. The words rushed to my lips: “If you knew my Mother, if you had seen her only once, you would know that it was impossible to risk causing her anxiety without immensely considering it,” but I restrained myself and merely said: “I am not the only woman here who has a mother.” I remembered that when Mrs. Pankhurst had been imprisoned she had been punished for exchanging a few words with her daughter. The Governor then brought out a stethoscope to examine my heart. This was surprising, as I had not realised that he was a doctor. He urged tonics, but did not insist. Eventually I consented to take maltine and a banana after the mid-day meal, as they were distressed that I was so thin.
The shrieks and cries from the cell below had grown less towards morning, but they were renewed at intervals throughout the day. When I went into the general ward the horror of the night was still hanging over my companions. A wardress told one of us that the woman had killed her child and been put into the condemned cell after being sentenced to be hanged. After my release it was officially stated that the woman who had been sentenced to death for baby-murder had been perfectly quiet and that the “condemned cell” was in a part of the prison far removed from the remand hospital. The shrieks we had heard were those of a mad woman, under remand for larceny, who had since been removed to a workhouse infirmary. The distressful cries went on intermittently for several days, after which they lapsed into groans like those of the dying. My longing to communicate with her became at moments almost unendurable. I hoped she would die; she seemed too far gone in distress for any other remedy. One morning before it was light I thought I heard the throaty sound of the death rattle from her cell. After that she was removed, whether dead or alive I could never find out until after my release.