now, you wicked, wanton, lustful young woman, did you wish your husband dead when having connexion with Lord Dunwich? Why don't you answer? Were his parts more pleasing to your sensuality? Is he better furnished than your husband? Speak up; confess all your wickedness! Did no sense of shame shock you in the midst of your enjoyment with that fellow, eh?"
Every question brought a scathing cut with it, breaking the weals and drawing fresh blood at every stroke, but I really was so ashamed I knew not how to answer, and my tongue was useless except for moans or cries of pain, and notwithstanding all their degrading and cruel treatment I felt it was fully deserved by me.
"Won't you speak? won't you confess your sorrow for your sin?" he continued. "Are you really so lost to all sense of shame as to be hardened against repentance? This must be whipped, yes, whipped out of you, even if it nearly costs your life!"
