” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. She saw a pole-chair; that would be this Mr. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. ‘I knows how to do better nor any surgeon.
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