“But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. " Here the chapmen set up another boisterous peal. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh.
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