‘As to Gérard, I do not know why he does this. No matter what happened, whether the road smoothed out or became still rougher, he would always be carrying this secret with him; and each time he recalled it, the rack. "Take my life, if you're so disposed. When it's done, I'll push you through. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. “You too sing?” he asked. Her normally shiny hair was 143 stringy and flat. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August.
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