His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. “What was that?” she asked sharply. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. It was from Brendon. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back.
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