He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. “Yes, John. ” Lucy looked at him balefully and whispered back, “She has plenty of food, Mike, it’s okay. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. Then she would be dead, and that was no use.
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