She can't last long. You know—if you want freedom. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. ‘Eh bien, pig. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her.
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