What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had picked up his trail. She could not say a word, much less move. Too many. His smile faded. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde. “Your arrival is really most opportune. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Larry fell off the truck the Wednesday night before she planned on leaving. She stared.
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