She had been obliged to wait all morning for the opportunity to talk to Martha, who chose always to retire to her cell for the period of recreation that preceded afternoon prayers. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. She danced with two others. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. He stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms above his head. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot.
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