Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. “But who’s going to pay for the room?” “I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica.
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