‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. Sheppard, attend to what I'm about to say to you. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. He stabbed into her with brute force.
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