"If this is the case, where is she?" "In Bedlam," replied the thief-taker, with a Satanic grin. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. . “I am.
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