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“You intolerable lunatic," he snarled at me, and then he caught my face between his hands and kissed me.
“If you don't want a man dead, don't bludgeon him over the head repeatedly.”
The trees grew thick and misshapen and enormous. They leaned over the river; they threw thin wisps of branches into the air, clawing for more of the sky. They looked the way a snarl sounds.