Whenever she came upon the obliterated word and paused, her father would say: "Faith. Instantly I knew that I was going to run away that night before he returned from the neighbouring island. Don't unman him. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. ‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie. But even you cannot alter her character.
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