’ His finger came out and Melusine felt it stroke her cheek. 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 when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. As Melusine approached the door, she saw Kimble speed up. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed.
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