Old Bedlam. 95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. He stole his chance and thrust his hand towards hers. She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely. It was true.
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