He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. behind the Laundromat. ” “I shall do very well, thank you, ma’am,” he answered shortly. But she was not sure just how to reach it. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window.
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