‘That’s wicked, that is. “No man can realize,” she said, “what that pit can be. If we don’t live it will think we are afraid of it. I’m not such a bad sort. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. And then she would find work. He jumped back, cursing.
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