The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often.
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