You must say farewell to her, for I cannot. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. You cannot care for her. It was a dead calm. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. " "But Wild still lives," cried Wood.
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