" "Except me, dear," insinuated Edgeworth Bess. . . “I’m thirsty. And, whatever you may think, I assure you, Jack's a downright goodnatured fellow. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. " "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. It does not work, I still suffer madness. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. I'm ashamed to say that I was too much terrified to scream out—but ran and hid myself.
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