He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. Gerald’s chest tightened. ’ The captain shook his head. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors.
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