‘I think that was what began his downfall. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. He laughed reassuringly. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. I won’t tolerate any foreign tongue in this house, least of all that confounded French.
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