"To shoot you would be to lose the reward. I made the pies. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. It would make my wife very happy. “Call me Annabel. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. “Ohmigod, Katy, you fucking killed her!” A trio of girls sniggered. . His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs.
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