Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. ” Sir John frowned. With all your cunning, we're more than a match for you. He was speechless. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar.
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