” “Give me something to do,” said Ann Veronica, interrupting her persuasions at last. ‘Yes, miss. She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. Tight. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. "Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone.
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