167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. . When any violent outrage was committed,—and such matters were of daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence,—a bell, the rope of which descended into the hall, brought the whole of the turnkeys to their assistance. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. Just me and another girl named Krista who turned eighteen and left right about when I got there.
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