“The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. I too, Anna, have watched and read of your success with—I must confess it—some misgiving. "You thank Heaven for the escape of the man who did his best to get your child's neck twisted. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable.
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