“Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. ” “Straight?” “Not a bit of it! He’s been out after eight per cent. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. . " "Not your only chance, Thames," returned Jack, in the same undertone; "but your best. "One of us has got to die," he panted.
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