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There was an old strip of towelling hung from a hook in the entryway, and after hanging up his dripping coat and removing his boots, he used it to towel his dark-blonde hair dry. There, within plain sight, was salvation: all he had to do was break the window and the dog-lock the bitch had put on his tongue and scream Help me, help me, save me from Annie! And inside he thought: What I want, Annie, is for you to do one of your forgetting acts when Ive got access to one of your knives and Im sure I can move well enough to use it. [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
