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Updated: May 6, 2025
Something burned horribly through his body, like a thousand million acid-tipped, white-hot needles jabbing through skin and flesh and sinking into the bone. He couldn't even scream. He blacked out as if he'd been a computer suddenly deprived of power. Of course, came the thought, a very good way to put out a fire is to pour cold water on it. That's a very good idea.
There was a devilish, mischievous joy in battling to outwit Bouchard more than in her deceit of Westerling. Satire, yes needle-pointed, acid-tipped! Melodrama done in burlesque, too. In the name of the noble art of war, a bit of fooling about ghosts in a tunnel might influence the fate of armies that were the last word in modern equipment.
Their words were acid-tipped needles knitting back and forth through Marta's brain. Was Lanny one of those black specks that peppered the slope? Was he? Was he? "Telephone and and see if Lanny is is killed!" she begged. She knew not how she uttered that monstrous word killed. But utter it she did in its naked terror.
With a telling "Hem!" the masterly woman cleared for action. "I will, Mr. Marrapit," she bowed. She murmured "Rosie, Rosie, ickle Rosie!" The cat Mr. Marrapit had lifted from her lap sprang back to that enticing cushion. Gently stroking its queenly back, to the soft accompaniment of its majestic purr, in acid-tipped accents she began to speak.
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