137 The living conditions of her kills were often so sordid that she would spend hours washing them off of her, and August brought her to the Greene River once again, scrubbing the stink from her hair with Ivory Liquid Dishwashing Detergent. "Oh, you're here, are you?" said the ruffian, with an exulting laugh: "I've been looking for you everywhere. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. Let me take the satchel, sir. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. .
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