Mr. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. ” She shifted again. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. \"Yes, he's hot, drives a great car, parents are loaded, and, of course, as you say, good-looking.
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