"You'll never return. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum. "I don't see why I should be obliged to pay for doing my duty. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago.
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