Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. “I cannot part with you. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. Miss Stanley reflected on this proposal for a moment. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town.
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