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She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. Each human contact leaves some indelible mark. She always left the table when they began to smoke. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. But there was no sign from her.
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