‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. "You are not. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature.
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