She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. “I’m not going to kill you, John. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. I promise not to do it again. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon.
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