He held on, and now he was lying squarely on top
of her like a man who means to commit rape, his face almost on hers; his right
hand groped, knowing exactly what it was looking for. He brought his left
leg down, and although it took his weight and saved him the fall, the pain was
excruciating - it felt as if a dozen bolts had suddenly been driven into the
bone. The gotta which had kept them both alive - and it had, for without it
she surely would have murdered both him and herself long since - was also what
had caused the loss of his thumb. She was beginning to breathe more rapidly,
almost to hyperventilate; the rhythm of her clenching hands was likewise
speeding up, and he knew that in a moment she would be beyond
him.
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