Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor commiseration. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring.
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