Lucy finished Michelle off, leaving only a dry, unrecognizable husk. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. The Ragged Edge. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. “What do you mean?” she asked.
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