She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. “These are her rooms,” she said. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. “You don’t want to go?” “No. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. The wards on the right were occupied by male patients, on the left by the female. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said.
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