For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. No doubt he has been drinking for days without eating substantially, and his heart gave out. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. I'm a slave to my word.
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