’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. I—listen. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. But it was not so ordered. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come.
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