But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. “I am sorry that I have murdered you. I must break open the door. Girls who had envied her former position as John’s amour passed no opportunity to utter cryptic remarks as she sat in Study Hall, walked down hallways, or rinsed her hands in the bathroom. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper.
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