Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. Yet there was nothing for her to do. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. . He crawled underneath the covers with her. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. Nothing would stop her, and she was prepared to face the consequences. Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes.
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