She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. "You," answered Jack, abruptly. “Who decorated the school like this?” She asked, peering up at the multicolored banners that hung everywhere. Wood—and after him came his daughter. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. I knew it. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. “Glad to see you in London.
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