“Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. “How could it not have hurt?” His analytical side started putting in overtime. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. A sob was strangled in her throat. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there.
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