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” “I thought Mr. ” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. ‘Good. The flat was apparently empty. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God.
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