I emerged from that first jacketing filled with a bitterness and a passionate hatred that has only increased through the years.

My God--when I think of the things men have done to me! Twenty-four hours in the jacket! Little I thought that morning when they kicked me to my feet that the time would come when twenty-four hours in the jacket meant nothing; when a hundred hours in the jacket found me smiling when they released me; when two hundred and forty hours in the jacket found the same smile on my lips.
Yes, two hundred and forty hours.

Dear cotton-woolly citizen, do you know what that means?
It means ten days and ten nights in the jacket.

Of course, such things are not done anywhere in the Christian world nineteen hundred years after Christ.

I don't ask you to believe me.