Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. She were brought to bed a few days after Miss Mary.
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