The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. " "I will carry you to the house, or fetch Mr. Women who Dids, and all that kind of thing. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. “Isn’t the question more complicated than that?” said Ann Veronica. They both listened intently.
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