"I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. Sheppard, smiling through her tears. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. ’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own.
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