She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. ” He could feel a small bump where he knew a cavity of smooth flesh should reside. . She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. ” Her father interrupted. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror.
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