The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. Norris. Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. . They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. 32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. Aliva Trencher. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already.
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