"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. ” Ann Veronica was about to reply, when he went on, with a still more deadly quiet: “I am not here to bandy words with you.
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