She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. . Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. It took my breath away. Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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