By the time he had reached St. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. He leaned forward to embrace her. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. " CHAPTER VI.
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