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Conversations at the Party

           "

           Frombehindhim,anothercomberoflaughterbroke;Rogerwashowlingtothetuneof"HomeontheRange."SomeonewaspickingoutaccompanimentontheSteinwaybabygrand.

           "Hereyouare."

           Thefrostycoldglasswaspressedintohishand.Jackdrankgratefully,feelingtheginhitandcrumbleawaythefirstinroadsofsobriety.

           "Isitallright,sir?"

           "Fine."

           "Thankyou,sir."Thecartbegantorollagain.

           Jacksuddenlyreachedoutandtouchedtheman’sshoulder.

           "Yes,sir?"

           "Pardonme,but…what’syourname?"

           Theothershowednosurprise."Grady,sir.DelbertGrady."

           "Butyou…Imeanthat…"

           Thebartenderwaslookingathimpolitely.Jacktriedagain,althoughhismouthwasmushedbyginandunreality;eachwordfeltaslargeasanicecube.

           "Weren’tyouoncethecaretakerhere?Whenyou…,when…"Buthecouldn’tfinish.Hecouldn’tsayit.

           "Whyno,sir.Idon’tbelieveso."

           "Butyourwife…yourdaughters…

           "Mywifeishelpinginthekitchen,sir.Thegirlsareasleep,ofcourse.It’smuchtoolateforthem."

           "Youwerethecaretaker.You-"Ohsayit!"Youkilledthem."

           Grady’sfaceremainedblanklypolite.

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Roboto Lora
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