“You know what, Mama?” said Frances, when Elinor had begun washing her right leg. “What?” “It’s not even so much the business about killing Travis Gann . . .” “What is it, then?” “It’s how I did it.” “What do you mean how?’ “How?” repeated Frances. “I dragged him down to the bottom of the lake. And I bit off his arms. I got his arms inside my mouth and I bit them off. I ate both his arms.”
