‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. " "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. B.
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