She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt. “Will you help me?” he asked. I know very well Gerald has been fishing for information about that girl, and I am determined to find out what he knows.
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