She wanted him so badly it hurt. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. “You know that I have always hated this!” She 264 looked down at Michelle’s pitifully bloody head, her body barely hanging on to its breath.
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