Although she had refused to answer his impertinent questions. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat.
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