Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know. I could always 108 tell right away whether my new foster home was going to be good or bad. The dizziness made the trees sickening, the smell of Michelle’s perfume soapy and revolting.
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