She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. And nothing to tell her where to begin. Maggot. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. But don't let my name frighten you. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. Very dark, like yours, ma’am.
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