She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. They must see the prisoner at the hatch. When she saw however that this man was a stranger, and obviously harmless, her expression changed as though by magic. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. The weather harmonized with their feelings. ” “I will think of it,” she repeated. “Please forgive me.
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