His face darkened. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. Clarice was from Lombardy, fair-haired and light skinned. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town.
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