"I can, and will. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. The Procession to Tyburn 462 XXXII. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. I know all about it. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator.
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