![]() ![]() The butcher's shop next door was on fire and Harley's patchwork quilt was inside. But was it his responsibility to tell his superiors there was another way of mending the bridge? ĭouglas saw Harley among the bridge protesters. The same guilt she felt about her third husband, who had committed suicide with a circular saw. She couldn't leave Dennis with the guilt of being the last person to see her alive. "But I find concrete very interesting." To Harley's surprise, it was.Ī day later, she got into difficulties swimming in the river. "I suffer from bad vertigo," said Dennis, over tea. Why couldn't she have kept her distance and her dangerous streak hidden. Why had she accepted his offer? Friends called her jolie laide, but she was neither jolie nor laide. Later, as he studied the bridge he was to demolish, Douglas wondered whether he should have offered her a lift.Īs Harley returned home, she wondered whether she should have told the strange, jug-eared man that she had to walk for an hour each day due to her infarction. ![]() "Would you care to join me for tea tomorrow?" Why had he been so intimate, he wondered. Ahead, he spotted a large, middle-aged woman walking in the heat. Why hadn't he brought his Engineering Digest? Sitting in silence made him feel so awkward. "Fine," she replied, absentmindedly.ĭouglas Cheeseman cursed himself as he drove out to the bent bridge. ![]()
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