He stood still, almost breathless. From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. . She turned towards the door, and had taken a pace towards it when it was flung open. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt.
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