She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. He sees men all defiled by coarse thoughts, coarse ways of living cruelties. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition.
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