She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. “I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. ” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug.
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