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“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. It was too good to be true. While they were still engaged in looking round the doctor returned with a nurse and assistant. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. " "Give them to me," replied Jack.
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