In the morning we telephoned to mother, supposing she would have received my letter, telling her of the trial at Bow Street that morning, but begging her not to come up for it unless she specially wished to do so. This telephone message was, unfortunately, the first news that reached her of my arrest, and was a great shock to her. She could not have caught a train that would have brought her in time to Bow Street; my eldest sister, Betty Balfour, and my eldest brother, Vic, went down to her later in the day. I felt happier than I had done for a long time. I knew that the first news would be the worst to her, that had now reached her, all else would seem unimportant in comparison; the most difficult, most dreaded part of my job was over. I felt less ill in health than the day before, only played out. My one anxiety was lest I should break down physically and be dismissed from the prison at once “on medical grounds.” The wish to avoid this contingency was about as stimulating a tonic as could be desired. It had exactly the same happy effect upon me as some people seem to derive from a glass of brandy.
My sister, Betty Balfour, drove with me in a hansom to Bow Street. A considerable crowd was waiting outside the police station; we elbowed our way through them with great difficulty and only by the help of the police, to whom we appealed to ease matters “for one of the accused.” I felt dazed with the press of people. Before long I found myself in a sort of loose-box guard-room, or wide passage, where all my fellow criminals and many of their friends were assembled. Many of my personal friends were there and most heart-gladdeningly kind to me. I had concocted a short speech, explaining the reasons of my action. I was told it was not very likely that the magistrate would allow me to deliver it; my friends kindly helped me to condense it as much as possible. It consisted of about four short paragraphs, sentences bearing on the reasonableness, justice and urgency of our demand. I remember nothing of it but these words: “I have been more proud to stand by my friends in their trouble than I have ever been of anything in my life before.”