’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. “I can’t believe it. ‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it.
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