Prison was beastly. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. There she sought and at last found 107A, one of those heterogeneous piles of offices which occupy the eastern side of the lane. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. The captain saw it too and nodded at the boy. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her.
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