“Do you need me to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?” He dropped on his knees by the man’s side and made a hurried examination. “A move of any sort would certainly be fatal. Capes came back into her mind. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. “And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead.
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