CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH THOUGHTS IN PRISON Part 1 The first night in prison she found it impossible to sleep. Their laughter, together with the agonized yowling of the dog, drew a circle of wondering natives; and at length McClintock himself came over to see what the racket was about. “Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. How to hold her, how to keep her at his side; this was the problem with which he struggled. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town.
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