On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer. He’s—He lives in a world of possibilities outside your imagination.
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