Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. . Then he turned to Anna. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. \"I could eat now. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer.
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