John knew better. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. ” John looked at her sympathetically. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. There was no response. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof.
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