While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. I've always been more or less music-mad. I do not command the services of a person who will not tell me why he offers them.
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