" "'Sblood!" cried Jackson, rising, "I can't sit still and hear Mr. \" She opened the front door with her keys, stepping inside. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. It came again. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it.
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