The man was my husband. “I will have your true reason. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. “I can’t keep away from you. He sucked at her neck, biting her hard, leaving red marks that disappeared as soon as he made them. That was something in his favour. He said simply that he wanted her to live at home.
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