“Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. The turning of the key startled her, but she did not see how she could make an objection. 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. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. “What a hypocrite you are.
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