The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. There were three exit doors. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. But about his unknown rival he was acutely curious. The hardest bout I ever had was with a woman—Sally Wells, who was afterwards lagged for shoplifting.
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