‘Maman?’ ‘How touching,’ said a sarcastic voice behind her in French. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. She were that miserable. 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. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.
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