She studied the face and tried to visualize the body, clothed in the dress which had created the spinsters' astonishment. She bounced onto her bottom. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. " Darrell's attention was drawn to the latter part of this speech by a slight pressure on his foot. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. Taking the wind was her business in life.
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