in with, less
distinctly, the sound of lighter feet, that stumbled or were dragged. Then came
the slam of a further door. After that, there was nothing.
I felt Miss Ridley''s eyes upon me. She said, ''You were with the prisoner, when
the trouble started?'' I nodded. She asked me, what had provoked it?—I said, I was
not sure. ''Why,'' she asked then, ''did she hurt Miss Brewer, and not you?'' I said
again, I wasn''t sure, did not know why she had hurt anyone.
I said, ''Miss Brewer came with news.''—''And it was the news that set her
off?''—''Yes.''
''What news was this, Miss Brewer?''
''She is to be moved,'' said Miss Brewer miserably. She put a hand upon the table
at her side: there was a deck of playing-cards upon it, set out by Mrs Jelf for a
game of Patience, and now the deck grew muddled. ''She is to be moved, to the
gaol at Fulham.''
Miss Ridley gave a snort. '' Was to be moved,'' she said, with a bitter satisfaction.
Then her face gave a twitch—as the face of a clock will sometimes twitch,
with the tumbling of the cogs and gears behind it—and her eyes came back to
mine.
And then I guessed what she guessed, and then I thought: My God.
I turned my back to her. She said nothing more, and after another minute Mrs
Jelf returned, with the prison surgeon. He saw me and bowed, then took Miss