” Anna smiled very faintly. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips.
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