Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. ” “We will do it,” he declared. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Furious shouting, and the thunder of running feet. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort.
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