She sat, crouched together, by the corner of the hearthrug under the bookcase that supported the pig’s skull, and looked into the fire and up at Ann Veronica’s face, and let herself go. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. There was. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. . He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement. When she was done she checked the patio door and carried his body into the garage, burying his remains next to the ten year old girl he had raped and killed last autumn, whose bones were starting to show in small areas where the maggots had feasted.
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