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Yes, this was a little better. The babies that the woman—your wife—refused to stop creating. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake.
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