John knew when he was outnumbered; he knew that fighting with the orderlies and nurse would only end with him in a drugged stupor. Still, he felt an immediate and overwhelming urge to take a swing. "And we're meant to be the mad ones," he said, perhaps a little louder than was strictly called-for. "She was fine until you frightened her. Was that honestly necessary?"
He clenched his fists but managed to control himself as the pile of grown men swarmed the girl. Barbaric. A complete overreaction. Even if he'd misjudged and she were mad.
Watson felt his faith in the asylum's medical staff ebbing a little.