As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. “And if she can’t have the right one? “We’ve developed such a quality of preference!” She rubbed her knuckles into her forehead. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death. “DEAR MR. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. He loved you. Her face expressed nothing. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat.
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