Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. "I don't know what his idea was. "Then, of course, you must know. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long.
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