“Do you know that boy very well, Shar?” Cathy Beck yelled in the general direction of the lavatory. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. Not only that, but he carried himself erect— the slight slouch which had bent his shoulders had altogether disappeared. “So you still think of me as husband, even though we have long since tired of each other.
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