Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. "Fear!" echoed Wild, in a terrible tone,—"fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. This he carried on by procuring witnesses to swear away the lives of those persons who had incurred his displeasure, or whom it might be necessary to remove. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up.
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