She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy city, and become degenerates. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. “Ritter’s!” said Ramage to the driver, “Dean Street. “I mean to go to that dance! I meant to reason with you, but you won’t reason. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey.
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