She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. I bored him. Between his lectures—and primarily he was an itinerant lecturer—he manoeuvred in vain to acquire some facts regarding the girl, who she was, whence she had come; but always she countered with: "What is that?" Guileless she might be; simple, never.
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