Volumnia, in her room up a retired landing on the staircase—the second turning past the end of the carving and gilding, a cousinly room containing a fearful abortion of a portrait of Sir Leicester banished for its crimes, and commanding in the day a solemn yard planted with dried-up shrubs like antediluvian specimens of black tea—is a prey to horrors of many kinds.
There are no more uses of "abortion" in the book.
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Abortion is a tough issue. Some consider it a question of a woman’s right to control her body, but others consider it a question of defending the helpless from murder.
No abortion, no religion, and nothing about today’s botched lockdown drill, okay?
Laurie Halse Anderson -- The Impossible Knife of Memory