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“He was on her before she could move, seizing her throat in his right hand, bending her legs with his knees, pressing her down into the water beneath him. She fought in his grip, but was unable to free herself. She opened her mouth: 'Papa - Papa... Papa...' a last cry, a last choking struggle for breath.” — Daphne du Maurier
He was on her before she could move, seizing her throat in his right hand, bending her legs with his knees, pressing her down into the water beneath him. She fought in his grip, but was unable to free herself. She opened her mouth: 'Papa - Papa... Papa...' a last cry, a last choking struggle for breath.