Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. McClintock was in a gay mood at dinner that night; but he did not see fit to give these children the true reason. He could lose himself for hours at a time. It came again. “I’m fine,” she said softly. ” She nodded. ’ There was a chuckle in his voice. 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. “I am sorry,” he said slowly.
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