Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Did you hear us through the archway, talking cookery?” They went up by the lift in silence. Furious shouting, and the thunder of running feet. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. .
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