Yet you knew that I was not dead. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. This is retribution. .
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