Where: Hyde Park

Who: A Holborn Link Boy

She doesn’t say anything. She hardly even breathes. She lays still and won’t be woken. And yet I do not see any marking, any damage, no cause that I might name. All of a sudden she came over all stiff and strange. Like she was thinking of becoming a statue and hadn’t quite made it.

I hauled her then, so stiff she was. Her skin, hard as stone, I carried her as well as I could into the park, onto a park bench, and she lay there, so cold and taut. I knew then she must be dying.