132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. " "Add that to what she is now suffering? It's too late. " "For an old bachelor?" "A human old bachelor. “These are the playgrounds of life. \" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. It is dull—deadly dull. Montague Hill do not interest me in the least.
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