They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. Then he turned to Anna. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray.
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