It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. . It was drafty and cold most of the time, but she found that she was not nearly as sensitive to the cold as long as he was 99 there to warm her up. "Lean on me," said Jack.
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