"I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. “I’ll get a towel. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. ‘I begin to ask myself why it is that I wish to become of these people.
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