On arriving at the prison we found that, as was now the rule, most of our number were to be treated as first class misdemeanants, though some few, without any apparent reason were to be placed in the second division. Those of us who had been there some months before now found that several minor innovations had been introduced since our last visit to Holloway. When we had originally been put in the first class, Mrs. Cobden Sanderson, who was a vegetarian, was daily served with the usual prison diet, and though she was obliged to leave the meat, no extra vegetables were allowed her, and she was obliged to exist on her potatoes and bread. Now a special dietary had been introduced for vegetarians, which consisted at this season of an alternation of carrots and onions, with occasional rather stale eggs as a substitute for meat, and milk, night and morning, instead of cocoa and tea. Butter was sometimes allowed by the doctor's special order. Now that so large a number of us occupied adjoining cells in one corridor and were sent out to exercise together apart from the other prisoners, the authorities found it difficult to enforce the full rigour of the prison régime. They found it difficult to prevent our speaking to each other occasionally when we stood together in line waiting to be marched to exercise or chapel; they could scarcely stop the tapping out conversations on the cell walls which was carried on by neighbouring Suffragettes. Sometimes, when the wardresses were off duty, one of our number would strike up a hymn or march to which words suitable to our movement had been adapted. The others would join in chorus; and when the officers came hurrying back it would be some moments before silence could be restored. For one cause or another many of us were sent to the hospital, some being placed in a ward with some twenty or thirty other prisoners, others in separate hospital cells. With the exception of Mrs. Despard and myself all the Suffragettes were released at the end of the first fortnight, but our sentences did not expire until a week later. A procession had been organised to welcome our comrades, and a band had played for an hour outside the prison gates. It is difficult to describe the effect upon ourselves which was created by the music. We knew that it was being played by our friends. We felt almost as though they were speaking to us, and to hospital prisoners who are not even allowed to attend service in the chapel, the very sound of the music in that dreary place was extraordinarily impressive. It made one's pulses throb and filled one's eyes with tears.