She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. His manner was deferential, even eager.
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