The less she lived, in fact, the better. . It was a haunted place. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. “How do you feel?” she asked.
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