One group at the door attracted Jack's attention, inasmuch as it was composed of several of his old acquaintances—Mr. I was a novelty. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent.
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