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The car skids onward neighing, a bitten mare, then comes to a stuck halt. Horns, brakes, a ragged doll thrown away. A last spasm squats her memory and the flux of remembrances gushes out of Mim, toxic and stinking. The stench also gushes through Anton’s nostrils and mouth and glassy eyes, transfixed. He mumbles something, is scolding her. Yes, Mim has misbehaved again.
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