F. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. Of course, I can't promise you the job definitely. F. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall.
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