On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer. Something about the girl had suggested an idea.
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