“You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. She screamed as she saw that their throats had been ripped out and their dead eyes bulged with horror as their heads lolled from mere strings of sinew and flesh. The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him.
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