Amaldi saw this cut edge. Almost white. Almost dry.
- No blood - children's voice kept repeating Professor Avildsen. - He is dead. He was already dead when ... - He shook his head, his eyes were covered with tears. - It was dead when ... He had to give me head. She's my ... it's my head. - The professor looked at Amaldi. Thumb and forefinger picked edge of the wound and pulled up. - He is no longer the blood of me ... You see? - He complained, as if considering Amaldi accomplice, adherent.
Amaldi lunged forward to grab a scalpel.
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