Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. He had this thing for his twin daughters. " "She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life. A shiver slid down inside her. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood.
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