"Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. He sent me flowers. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven.
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