CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. . He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. ” He thought. Especially when they wear cologne. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal.
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