Her husband finally relented. She was asked to meet him after his game Saturday afternoon. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. 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. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. Sheppard. “Thank you—for coming,” he said.
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