She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. " "Shall we do so?" whispered Winifred to her father.
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