She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. ‘How fascinating. “I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so.
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