"But pray tell me if her husband has escaped?" "Her husband!" echoed Jonathan scornfully. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. He seemed to know a great deal about life. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly.
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