“Whitewash and blue cotton, and weary faces in the women’s wards; whitewash and brown fustian, and sullen, stupid looks in the men’s; this was all that Trevithic carried away in his brain that first day; - misery and whitewash, and a dull, choking atmosphere from which he was ashamed almost to escape into the open fields outside the town, across which his way led back to the station.”