She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. The door of cabin 2 was open. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. ” “Fine. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. It 163 invariably leads to trouble. ‘I allow anyone in.
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