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She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. She felt terrible lying to him. “Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. She left for good after he fell asleep. ’ Sheer exasperation made Gerald release her as he broke into reluctant laughter. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death. She approached a soft-looking bespectacled girl she had seen once in the halls and noticed for her haunted look.
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