A Poke in the Eye

A doctor comes and calls names and of course, this being London, there are all sorts. ‘Columba?’ she calls now. ‘Columba?’  A pale, freckly young woman stands, gathers her things and heads towards her, past seats uncomfortably close together. ‘Are you Columba?’ she is asked, though it is obvious to all of us that she must be. Columba nods shyly. ‘Oh!’ says the doctor. ‘Well done.’ 

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