Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. Period trying desperately to cover her nudity with a dingy hand towel she had found lying on the floor in a corner. "Let me go," cried Winifred.
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