She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. “Someone must have found it and taken good care of it. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. Gag him," he added, pushing Thames rudely toward Quilt Arnold, "and convey him to the boat. I guess she used to pick on her for being big and fat. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living.
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