She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. He embraced her like her father once had. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation.
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