"Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. 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. Marvel. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. I thank God for the very skin that is peeling from your nose, for all things great and small that make us what we are. " "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood. Please don’t tell anyone, mister. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it.
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