“Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. Morality is a point of view. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. It would be protective; it would with age turn to silver unnoticeably.
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