Everett’s gaze dropped to the papers in his hand. Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. It was a purse. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. Occasionally she would be missing a sock or a bra, so she took to storing those things in her gym locker.
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