“There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. He whispered in her ear. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. Her eyes followed him. She was interested by the swearing of the witnesses. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house.
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