We married, and for a time we were happy. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. It’s too valiant, Miss Stanley, too valiant altogether!” Ann Veronica meditated.
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