She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. " "What has he done?" "He has just naturally peeved his Uncle Sam. "Hurrah! come along, Thames; we're free.
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