I don’t care! I’m glad I did. It's a mighty quare 'un, though. Let me take the satchel, sir. But this I cannot do. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ‘Merci, dieu. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. Her mother had prepared her for everything.
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