But Jack was too nimble for him. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. Capes smiled cheerfully with his eyes meeting hers. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. ’ ‘Ah yes. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon, books. Wood scarcely knew where he was. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents.
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