"'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. See paragraph 1. “Is that plain?” she asked. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to draw him out. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose.
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