. “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me. "His lordship desires me to say—ough! ough!" Fresh groans and hisses. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones.
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