Mrs. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. Between Canton and Hartford two giants had risen, invisible but menacing— Fear and Doubt. As long as Larry and I meet the boy first, he can take you out.
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