“You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. “I should kill you. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. ” “Why?” asked Hetty. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding.
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