He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. You know how stubborn they get. He donned his winter coat. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her. He unhooked it from the front clasp. Third period was Art, where they sat side by side at a table and carved linoleum for block prints together. Stanley almost liked Ramage. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door.
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