She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. ’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. ‘It was a good chance for a new life,’ Joan explained, venturing to face Melusine again, ‘and Martha took it.
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