A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. Brown or Jones, I dare say. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat. “Then—then we can talk things out.
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