Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me. ” He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him.
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