Sheppard. " The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. ” “Again,” he said, “I am going to be impertinent. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart.
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