Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. She forced herself not to think of John. There it is. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. She hit the villain with it.
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