Bridie Sweeney! I roared the name so loudly that people hurrying by turned their heads. I added, more quietly: One of twenty slaves kept at your convent. The nun’s mouth opened and shut. Underfed, I said. Neglected. Brutalised all her life. What was Bridie to you but a dirty orphan—free labour, and you took the wages she earned too. Tell me, when you sent her to serve in my ward, did you even think to check whether she’d had this flu?
