Jack's friends were allowed to visit him,; but as he had openly avowed his intention of attempting an escape, their proceedings were narrowly watched. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. The perfume was the only one she ever used. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely.
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