” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. "You've but a sorry lodging, Mrs. ‘I see well that I am dealing with you. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world.
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