” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. ‘Go then. ’ ‘That’s easy. ” She glared at him balefully. The ragged edge. There's good stuff in him, if one could find the way to dig it out.
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