“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Lucy stared like an automaton at Michelle’s unconscious 262 body, revolted at her own actions to the point of shock. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. ‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall.
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