Blood, they say, won't come out. “You can look as innocent and shocked as you please. Michelle helped her mother clear the table and Lucy thanked her for the meal. Meanwhile, the executioner had attached strong cords to his ankles and wrists, and fastened them tightly to the iron rings. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. He sucked at her neck, biting her hard, leaving red marks that disappeared as soon as he made them. She entered and approached the bunk. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books.
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