Queer world. And in this fact lay his danger. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him.
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