In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. Wild. “Where have you been, young lady? I know your kind, I know you sneak out every night! How long do you think it could go on? You little murdering slut! Whore! I found you out, found your blouse! Evidence! How many of your johns have you killed why you have lived at my house? Huh? They’re going to put you away for a long time, honey. We will get on with the agreement and you shall have in it whatever rubbish you like. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it.
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