“I mean to go to prison directly the session is over,” said Miss Klegg. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. ” He was intrigued. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent.
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