The two aunts of these young ladies lived for many years in the dower house upon my estate in Hampshire. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. “Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked.
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