Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. “It’s precious unromantic. ” She wanted to feast upon him badly, his passion, his youthfulness. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce.
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