’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter.
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