Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. “I demand to know what is going on right now! How dare you come here telling MY child that she has to answer YOUR questions! This little girl has never done anything wrong in the two and a half years she has lived with us!” Larry came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “What he had was altogether insufficient.
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