She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you. I don’t believe in the faults. I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. F. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him.
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