’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. He was every bit as much a pig as this Emile. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs.
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