“Not much. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. He had a wild impulse to shout. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity.
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