She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. But Michelle’s heart seemed to grow fonder to the subject proportionally to Lucy’s avoidance of it.
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