His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. There was no response. "I'll have to set you right on that, too. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. She must kill this man, or kill herself. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion.
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