The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. A paralyzing horror was upon her. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. ” Drummond shook his head in melancholy fashion. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. ” Michelle said.
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