What he did not know was this: Ruth surrendered these little secrets because the doctor had warned her that the patient must be amused and interested. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. Woof! What a dog. ‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind.
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