The lane ended in a gutter running hard by a bramble. He turned the corner and led me to a small hut with a sloping tin roof and a rickety wooden door...with a padlock. Kumar unlocked the door and pushed it open. It was very spare, almost Spartan. One chair, a little table, a kerosene stove in a corner, a few pots and pans on two wooden shelves. A cheap calendar on the wall by a small mirror. Clothes hung on a line, a tin chest. A hemp bed with a thin pillow and sheet and sagging mattress. A. Allison also left a dark background behind the photos of the ones I had not met with personally, which was most of them. Frank Watkins' circle was lit because while we had not actually 'met' with him, we had no doubt of where he stood. His wife Irene, by contrast was still dark because while she obviously knew what was going on, we really were not sure whether she encouraged the abuse of her own children or simply had no choice. Samantha had told Allison that her mother had frequently. More

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