“I cut off his right hand pinky with his own rusty bolt cutter. ’ Her eyes narrowed. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. And we’re going to fight that old world down there. It’s John. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. I came in by the vestry, and we will go out that way again.
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