Norris says she's dying. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. “After all, it’s our honeymoon. "You'll never return. Wood. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. The one problem was that it didn’t fly. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength.
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