It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. If Martha knew all, she would certainly die of shock. ’ ‘Woof!’ uttered the sergeant, jumping back. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. “It’s either now or never,” said Ann Veronica, again ascending this stile. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. He did his best not to grin. When they reached the door, he kissed her 246 again. ‘I don’t propose doing anything with you. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man.
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