They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. The lady whose husband had been Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. ‘That is good.
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