She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. ” She looked around for the voice around the Orchestra room, fumbling around with her books. Her aunt had secretly sent on to Ann Veronica some new warm underclothing, a dozen pairs of stockings, and her last winter’s jacket, but the dear lady had overlooked those boots.
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