of a friend, from beyond the
prison walls. She needed an object upon which to fasten her thoughts, while she
worked, or while she lay still and silent—at night, when the wards were quiet. ''For
then, I think she feels those morbid influences come upon her. And she is weak,
as I have said. I think they— baffle her.''
The matron said then that, if they were to indulge the women every time they
thought themselves baffled, they should have to bring in a troop of ladies to do
the work!
But Mr Shillitoe had narrowed his eyes a little, and now tapped with his foot
upon the flags of the passage, considering. I watched his face, and Miss Haxby
watched it: we stood before him like the two fierce mothers—one true, one false—
who stood before Solomon, arguing over a child . . .
And then at last he turned to his matron and said he thought, after all, that
''Miss Prior might be right''. They had a duty to their prisoners—a duty to protect
them, as well as to punish. Perhaps that protection, in Dawes''s case, could be
applied a little more—thoughtfully. A troop of ladies was what they needed, indeed!
''We should be grateful that Miss Prior is willing to devote her labour to the task.''
Miss Haxby said then that she was grateful for it. She made him a curtsey, and
her ring of keys let out a muffled ring.
When she had gone, Mr Shillitoe took my hand again. ''How proud your