Sorry, you must be a member of this group to do that.
Mrs. Martello came panting up to Laurel, heavy on her rubber heels. “She laid hands on him! She said if he didn’t snap out of it, she’d—” The veneer of nurse slipped from Mrs. Martello—she pushed up at Laurel the red, shocked face of a Mississippi countrywoman as her voice rose to a clear singsong. “She taken ahold of him. She was abusing him.”
