Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Sorry to be so nosy. Tomorrow you will feel like a freed woman.
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