The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. I kicked the living shit out of him. ‘You usually do,’ he said lightly. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding.
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