Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. Then, as Ramage readjusted himself in a corner, he remarked: “These young people shoot up, Stanley. 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. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. Wood obeyed.
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