“Why not?” He repeated, demanding. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. Then a ride to London on horseback. ” He took out his watch. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. "I could not make him understand. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand.
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