The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. “I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. He must be more or less of an age with this man. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. He would pick a random member of the ever-shifting household for the sake of example.
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