It's almost worth while being sent to prison to have the pleasure of escaping. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. ” He bit, feeling the numb desire to maul her. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied.
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