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Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. Stanley,’ I said. "I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman.
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